


Cherry Girl

by RedLetterMistress



Category: Jay Bauman - Fandom, Red Letter Media
Genre: Dorks, Dream Sex, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Long-Haired Quarantine Jay, Missed Connections, Slow Burn, Texting, film nerds, idiots to lovers, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 94,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26391709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLetterMistress/pseuds/RedLetterMistress
Summary: You met Jay a decade ago and you've never stopped thinking about him. You're content to just watch his videos and daydream, but a phone call on Jay's birthday changes everything.Celebrate Jay's 40th by reading the longest Red Letter Media reader-insert fanfic ever written!Full of fun fanfic tropes, movie references, and adorable awkwardness; this is a full-length heartfelt romantic comedy staring you and Jay Bauman!This work will be posted in REAL TIME! It begins on September 10th, 2020 and ends September 25th, 2020. If something in the fic happens on Monday, September 21st, well then it will be posted Monday, September 21st! Some days will have up to EIGHT chapters posted, but every day will have at least one! Subscribe to the work to keep updated.
Relationships: Jay Bauman/Reader
Comments: 150
Kudos: 66





	1. Thursday, September 10th 2020 12:15pm - At Work

**Author's Note:**

> A super-duper extra special thanks to my betas/cheerleaders/boxing coaches from Rocky - the amazing Dashielldeveron and the beautiful DeviousDr.Kate.  
> I can't tell you how much I appreciate your time, energy, and effort. You made my work so much better! This is dedicated to you! Thank you!

[ - ESTABLISHING SHOT : CHICAGO - ]

“Oh my my! Is that him?” your coworker asks over your shoulder.

You minimize the window quickly and swivel around to shush him quiet.

“Yes. God, Will! Could you be less obvious?”

“Vanessa is out of the office for lunch, so don’t worry about getting a work demerit or whatever,” Will snappily remarks. “Pull it back up! I want to see him.”

Your work at Buzzfeed isn’t exactly fulfilling: mostly just making lists of what’s currently on sale at Amazon or recycling posts from the "Am I The Asshole" subReddit. It’s mostly brainless, but it pays the bills and looks good on a resume.

_You hope._

You roll your eyes and pull up the _Bill and Ted_ Half in the Bag episode on your monitor.

“My god, he is just delicious,” Will hums. “Looks like Ryan Gosling and Jonathan Taylor Thomas had a beautiful, bearded baby," he swoons. "You’re sure he’s straight?”

“Aren’t you married?” 

“Yes. _Married_. Not dead,” Will balks. 

You’ve seen Will’s drag performances around the city on a few occasions. His Sia is spot-on, but his Cher always brings the house down. The wigs, the attitude, the cut-out spandex outfit from _Turn Back Time;_ amazing. But it's the dead-on impression of Cher's mannerisms that really sells it. 

Will seems to be channeling her now, flicking his wrist near his ear to toss back imaginary waist-length hair over his shoulder. 

“So he’s available then?” he asks as he bats his beautiful eyelashes.

You gaze back at Jay Bauman's perfect, pixelated face on your computer screen and sigh softly.

“I’m actually not sure,” you shrug. “But yeah, you might have a better shot with him than I do. Or than I _did_ , more accurately.” 

Will makes a pouty face and grabs your shoulder. 

“Oh honey,” he says with pity. You smack his perfectly manicured hand away gently and laugh him off. 

“He’s funny and he’s cute, yes. But it’s… it **_was_** … just a little crush. Barely that even.” You hit 'X' to close out of YouTube and stand up at your small desk in the Buzzfeed Chicago office.

“How about we get lunch and never speak of this again?" you offer hopefully. 

“Well then you better stop watching your 'movie reviewer porn' at work,” Will warns. “Unless you just want to keep torturing yourself with the one that got away.”

He saunters back to his desk to grab his jacket and you get lost in thought. 

_The 'one that got away'? Is that what Jay is?_

You met him just once - **_years_** ago. You were both awkward nerds attending a film festival in 2009; in Minneapolis of all places.

The last panel on the final day of the festival was on the history of cinematography in the horror genre. Incredibly fascinating stuff, but the crowd was sparse.

You caught a glimpse of an award geek to your right wearing a _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ shirt, nodding just as enthusiastically as you were each time a new shot was mentioned. 

You both gasped at the skateboard cam from _The Evil Dead_ , the handheld POV shots from _The Hills Have Eyes,_ and the in-camera effects from _The Gate._ All amazing and all incredibly influential on cinematography as an art form across every genre.

You had wanted to speak with him; you didn’t know anyone else with that kind of enthusiasm for film. But talking to new people wasn’t really your strong suit. You finally worked up the nerve to approach him after the panel and... _well_... you waved at him like a toddler. To the best of your recollection, your invitation wasn’t exactly the smoothest, either. 

“Would you want.. movie talk... with me?”

**_You fucking idiot._ **

You tried to cover as Jay’s head cocked to the side in confusion. His short, dishwater-blonde hair stuck out in five different directions.

“What?” he asked, completely befuddled. 

“I mean, would you like to talk with me? _About_ movies. Films.” 

It was a _slightly_ more intelligible invitation, but still god awful. 

Jay’s bright green eyes popped open wide when he finally understood what you were asking.

“Oh! Yeah. Okay,” he replied with a start. He scratched at his messy beard stubble nervously. “Yeah. I mean, movies are great, if you want... uh... to talk about them. With me. Sure. I’d like that. If you want.” 

_Thank god he was even more awkward than you._

You remember the sight of Jay’s prominent front peeking out over his bottom lip as you stood there in a tense silence. You both pivoted nervously on your heels and glanced at anything but each other. His chain wallet jangled quietly at his side. 

Thirty whole seconds must have passed by before you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind:

“Booze?” 

“That! Yes,” he agreed quickly.

At the hotel bar, Jay ordered a round of whiskey shots and you slammed them as quickly as possible. You asked the bartender for “something fancy with umbrellas and cherries and straws that look like flamingos,” but the bartender’s look of utter disgust tamped that down immediately. You blushed with embarrassment and ordered a beer instead, hoping that would seem less weird, but gazed longingly at the slices of orange, lemon, and lime in the small organizer behind the bar. 

A few minutes later, you and Jay both had a full beer and another shot under your belt. The conversation was finally flowing freely. Jay brought up the idea of horror _tropes_ versus horror _clichés_ and it was like you could finish each other's sentences. 

You listened enraptured as he talked about how often the skateboard cam had been used in popular cinema… and both agreed that the best non-horror use was in _Raising Arizona -_ obviously. Then you brought up how the Cohen brothers, against their typical practice, had never called Nicolas Cage back for any of their other movies. 

“John Goodman, John Turturro, Holly Hunter... but not Nic Cage…”

“...because he’s a fucking weirdo,” you both said in unison. Jay clanked his glass against yours before pounding down the rest of his beer. 

He wasn’t as handsome then as he is now, but even with the awkward facial hair and spotty complexion, there was something about his shy demeanor and goofy smile that made you blush.

And he was _so smart._

And so funny. 

You talked about every facet of film making; Sally Menke’s signature editing for Tarantino, Robert Yeoman’s impeccable art direction in Wes Anderson films, and the perverse genius of John Waters and Divine. 

You brought up religious imagery in _Stigmata_ and _The Exorcist_ and he ate up every detail, nodding enthusiastically at all the right parts. Jay said your ideas about the swapped gender role of the male protagonist in _Jeepers Creepers_ was “inspired” and you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. 

Sitting belly-up at the corner of that shitty hotel bar, every word he said was enthralling. He rattled off the name of every actress, every special effects guy, every obscure Italian film maker on earth. He knew every camera trick and the real-life locations of every horror movie house in existence. 

He asked your opinion on horror classics and schlocky action films; smiling and laughing and following along on every point.

He wanted to know not just _what_ you thought, but **why**.

His memory was amazing, but the way he made you feel like your ideas mattered… _that's_ what made your insides flip. 

Over the next ninety minutes, talk of film history turned into personal history. The end of the 2000’s was a difficult period in both of your lives it seemed. You remember Jay being just as lonely as you were, but at the time, you were still hung up on an ex-boyfriend you barely remember now and far too insecure to try anything with the delightful dork right in front of you. 

The drinks at the hotel bar were flowing freely, but from your hazy recollection, he just had his heart stomped on by some waitress from a Cracker Barrel. Or maybe it was a Denny’s. In any event, she hurt him and was therefore an irredeemable bitch, and you faintly recall telling him that… _several_ times... and very loudly, too. 

Jay seemed to appreciate you taking his side, but waved off your concern: 

“She’s not a bitch… not... not really. I just… I don’t think I… I couldn’t... figure out.. how... I guess... how... to be… _with_ someone... I guess. Or maybe… I… I don’t know…”

The man who spent forty-five minutes flawlessly describing visual metaphor in _The Holy Mountain_ couldn't string one sentence together about his feelings. He was clearly too precious for this awful world and you wanted to wrap your arms around him and shield him from everyone that would do him harm. But you had to settle for just calling his ex every curse word you could think of. 

Just before the kitchen closed, Jay ordered a Hawaiian pizza and made sure the server brought two plates. When the fresh-from the oven pizza was served, the steam fogged up the precarious stack of shot glasses next to your mostly-empty beer.

“Lottsa people hate this kind, but its my favorite,” he smiled before taking a huge, pineapple-covered bite. He burnt his mouth on the hot pizza and had to spit it out on his napkin. You pointed at him to laugh and wound up snorting like a piglet. Jay pointed right back at you and laughed hysterically.

It might have been at your expense, but that perfect laugh warmed your heart more than it probably should have.

Five minutes later, when the pizza had cooled enough, you gladly devoured a slice. You would have eaten anything at that point, but you had to admit it was weirdly delicious. 

“It’s a little strange, but I have to give it to you: You’ve got amazing taste,” you praised.

“I like strange,” he responded absently. Jay was watching the bartender prepare a gin and tonic for another customer.

Each time the barman would walk away to serve a patron, Jay would steal a maraschino cherry from behind the bar and plop it into your drink. You weren’t going to complain, the cherries were delicious, but the evidence of Jay’s thievery (in the form of more than fifteen cherry stems) was starting to pile up in front of you.

“The bartender’s gonna figure out what you’re doing,” you warned him with a giggle.

“But they make you smile,” Jay said simply. His green eyes met yours for a single, perfect moment: “You have a really nice smile."

The butterflies in your stomach threatened to go full _Alien_ chest-buster.

Your eyes whipped down at the floor and you hid your flushed cheeks with your hands.

Jay turned back to the bar and tried to change the subject. “I… uh… I really wanna to get you one of the umbrellas but I think they’re too far away for me to reach.”

You peered into those lovely eyes of his and Jay immediately looked away. He picked at the label on his beer bottle and nibbled his lip sharply. He looked nervous, but so were you. 

_God, you wish you had just been braver._

“I think it’s crazy that you’re single,” you finally managed to say. Jay laughed, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You wanted to hug him. Or kiss him. Or tell him he was amazing and funny and wonderful, but you just couldn’t. The booze had given you some courage, but not nearly enough as you needed. 

“Okay, Jay. I‘tell you what,” you slurred after half the pizza and another shot was gone. “I think you’re gonna find the perfect girl for you and your gunna get married and have like twenty babies...”

“I only want _nineteen_ babies,” he injected. 

“Shut up, I’m doing something,” you laughed. “So I think you’re going to wind up very happy with someone. Is’ basically guaranteed.” 

Jay rolled his eyes and you smacked him on the hand to get his attention back.

“Cause you’re smart and funny and you…” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say “turn my insides into jelly” or “are so cute it makes my heart hurt” or the million other things you really wanted to say. 

“... you’re great.” 

_What a fucking_ _**cop out**. _

“But if by some miracle you’re not married by the time you’re forty, I shall marry you,” you told him definitively. 

“You ‘shall’ marry me?” Jay snickered in his bar stool.

“Yeah, ya jerk. At’s what you say when you’re making a deal. Is’ very technical, legal language, Jay. You usually say it in Latin,” you explained with a smile. 

“Right. Sure,” he laughed. He pulled up his fingers to wiggle them over his empty plate. “You say it all spooky-like in Latin, over a pentagram on the floor, drawn in blood...” 

“Yeah. And chicken bones, duh. But I’m fresh out of pennagrams,” you clarified. 

“You mean pentangles?” Jay asked. “Or is that the Satany one? Wait, no... that’s the one from _American Werewolf in…_ ”

“...in _Paris._ Yeah. _‘Don’t be a putz,’_ Jay!’” 

Jay giggled at your line from the movie and quickly hid his crooked smile behind his beer. 

You held out your hand to him and smirked. 

“Well I don’t know which one’s which, plus I wouldn't want to mess up and have to marry Satan instead of you. So howsabout we just shake on it?” you offered.

Honestly, you’re not what he said to that. You’re not even sure if you actually proposed your little deal to him at all or if that was just in your head. The only other thing you really remember is waking up alone in your hotel room with an angry bitch of a hangover and an ice bucket full of maraschino cherry vomit next to the bed.

But no trace of Jay. 

If he told you his phone number, you didn’t write it down. If he had yours, he never called.

The regret was almost as bad as the headache; and it lasted a hell of a lot longer.

You’d thought back to him over the years. His smile, his incredible memory for obscure horror, his quirky overbite. The reminders of him left you almost melancholy. Whenever you attended conventions or film fests, you found yourself scanning the crowd for him, hopefully, but he was never there.

And so the memory of him faded… but just a bit.

Your people skills have improved exponentially since the late 2000’s; perhaps it’s just that you really, honestly, truly don’t care what people think of you anymore. Time has a wonderful way of helping people stop giving a shit.

But you still regret not being bolder or more confident back then. It kind of killed you to think that he had no idea how warm and tingly you felt every time he laughed. 

You wished him the best; wherever he was.

Then five years ago, you stumbled upon Red Letter Media. A few of your friends had tried to get you to watch Plinkett’s _Phantom Menace_ review over the years, but you weren’t going to waste any more of your life on a dirty old man’s psychotic YouTube channel. 

Out of sheer boredom on a random Saturday in 2015, you clicked on the first search result for Red Letter Media - _Best of the Worst; Shakma, Python II, and Beaks: The Movie_. 

And there he was. 

Thirty pounds lighter with a perfect haircut and flawless skin, but it was him; referencing the lesbian sex scene in _Boa vs. Python_ and looking like five-foot nothing Adonis. 

You watched the next video, then the next, and eventually all of them.

Some of the earliest episodes showed Jay looking exactly how you remembered him; shy and funny and delightfully awkward. But there was no denying it:

Your dorky dream guy got hot. 

**_Ridiculously_ ** hot.

But what could you do? Send him an email? Tweet at him? He’s famous now - would he even see your message? Hell, what would you say? 

_“Sorry I didn’t throw myself at you when I had the chance?”_

_“Congrats on getting obscenely sexy?”_

Not exactly Shakespeare. 

He might not even remember you.

Plus, looking like that, you knew there was no way he was single. He probably found that perfect girl you had promised was out there for him and was well on his way to nineteen babies. Or he was up to his neck in nameless, naked women 24/7. 

The embers of your regret burned bright again.

But he looked happy... and so you were happy for him. 

You’ve had your fair share of love and loss since you met Jay; graduations and job interviews, first dates and messy breakups. But all of that experience has led you to finally feel comfortable in your own skin. 

You sort of stumbled into your current job, writing fluff articles for Buzzfeed. You’ve got a nice but admittedly small apartment in Chicago. You have no real idea what you want to be when you grow up, but you’re actually fine with that. 

It’s been five years now and you still catch an episode of RLM when you have time. Your job isn’t exactly hard journalism, so you can listen to the guys bitch about movies when work is slow. Jay’s still as handsome and smart as ever, but you’ve also grown to appreciate Mike, Rich, Josh and Jack in their own ways. Even Mac can be fun when he’s...

“Sweet Baby Jesus, just fucking tweet him!” Will snaps. You have to shake your head hard to come back to the present.

“What?!” You chirp. You look at Will’s smug face and groan in exasperation. 

You snatch your bag and keys from your desk and head towards the elevator with one of the only other people you’ve ever told about Jay. 

“It was ten years ago, Will. Nothing happened. I’m totally fine.”

“You watch those videos an awful lot for being ‘totally fine.’”

“I don’t watch them _that_ much.”

Will flashes another skeptical glance. 

“I enjoy their humor! That’s all.”

Will crosses his arms and stares at you. 

“Fine! Okay!” You shrug your shoulders exaggeratedly. “He’s growing out his hair right now and it looks really nice on him, so maybe I watch it more often. Whatever. Shut up.”

Will looks at you like you’re a misbehaving child. He sighs softly and pushes the button for the elevator. 

“You just always say you wish you had been more assertive back then,” he reminds you. “So be assertive now.” He elbows you in the rib playfully. “I didn’t see a ring on him. Go out and get it, girl.”

“How about we _‘go out and get’_ some tacos?” you deflect.

“Yay, tacos! And then you can show me more clips of that tight little pocket rocket you’re in love with.”

“I hate you so much right now,” you breathe. “How about you never mention him again and I’ll pay for the tacos?” you offer.

“Using free tacos against me?! You twisted bitch!” Will yelps. 

“I learned it from watching you, Dad!”

“FINE!” Will answers as the elevator door finally opens. You both take your places and turn face the closing doors. 

"But you should still tweet him." 

You turn to glare daggers at Will before he seals his mouth shut, locks them tight, and throws the invisible key behind him.

And that, hopefully, should put an end to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Psssst.... it doesn't put an end to that.)
> 
> So what do you think so far? Let me know!
> 
> The next chapters will be posted on Sunday, September 13th (Jay's 40th Birthday)! Be sure to subscribe to this work if you want updates or just keep checking back. Eight chapters will be posted Sunday, and then at least one chapter every day for the next twelve days.


	2. Sunday, September 13th 2020 9:00am - The Voicemail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get an interesting voicemail.

Today is an early brunch with your friend Ashley. She’s paying you back for all your hard work yesterday moving her into her boyfriend’s apartment. Or should you say her _latest_ boyfriend’s apartment. No judgement of her relationships, mind you. You’re just getting tired of moving her book collection every eight months. 

Your whole body was aching when you got home last evening, but at least you slept soundly. It’s now 9am and you’ve already been up for an hour, catching up on laundry and listening to Lindsay Ellis’ latest video essay. You took a little extra time to get ready, trading in your usual Sunday lounge pants and work t-shirt for a summery blouse and flattering jeans. 

You’re two steps away from your car when you finally notice you have a voicemail. You sit in the driver’s seat and start to apply some lip balm in the mirror as you listen to your message. 

**< < YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE. >>**

**< < FIRST MESSAGE: SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH: 11:15PM:>>**

You start your car just as a gruff voice comes through your speaker _._

**_... Uh…_ **

**_…_ **

**_Hey._ **

**_..._ **

**_You probly don’t remember me._ **

**_..._ **

**_It’s... Jay... from... the thing? The moobie thing? For films. Was a while ago... uh...._**

**_..._ **

**_S‘my birthday tomorrow. Big four-oh._ **

**_…_ **

**_The last couple a' days just fuckin' sucked. ’m pretty sure my friends forgot. But that happens. Is' fine._ **

**_I just… I dunno._ **

You hear a bottle slosh and a hard swallow.

**_My brother remembered. Texted me and everything. He’s busy - bunch of kids._ **

**_My mom called. I love her. She made a joke about being forty and single. So that… that’s... fuckin’ great._ **

**_..._ **

**_Was thinking of you._ **

**_I do that... sometimes._ **

**_I remembered your deal… or “our” deal? The marrying one? The getting married one?_ **

**_..._ **

**_Oh, man. I think I drank too much._ **

**_..._ **

**_Welp, I don’t have a lot of time left in my thirties- looks like another hour. 'ats dumb._ **

The phone rustles like he’s covering the microphone.

**...**

**_God this is stupid._ **

**_Whatha fuck am I doin’?_ **

**_…_ **

**_This prolly isn’t even your number anymore. Prolly out there dancing with your husbands. Or wife. Prolly a really pretty wife. Didn’t really get a solid idea of your sen… sensual… preferences._ **

**_So…_ **

**_..._ **

**_WhaawasIdoin…_**

**_So yeah. Just sitting here at my house. Alone. On my birthday eve._ **

**_…_ **

**_Fuck._ **

**_..._ **

**_You should stop by. Have a drink with me. Or get married. I'm up for either. Either’s good._ **

Jay rattles off his home address in South Milwaukee twice before taking another long pause.

**_I don’t blame you if you don’t ‘member me. Is’ okay._ **

**_I remember you, though._ **

**_And your smile._ **

**_..._ **

**_Cherry Girl_ **

**_…_ **

**_You were so…_ **

**_…_ **

**_God._ **

**_..._ **

**_I shoulda…_ **

**_…_ **

**_I’m sorry._ **

**_..._ **

**< < TO REPLAY, PRESS ONE. TO DELETE, PRESS SEVEN. >>**

You stare at yourself in the mirror; the lip balm half-applied and long forgotten. You shut off your car engine and play the message four more times. 

You stare at the phone in disbelief before playing it for a fifth time. 

_How is this fucking possible?_

You play it again.

He called? How? He… 

He...

_He sounds miserable._

You have to go.

_What?!? He probably thought you were someone else._

**_…_ **

**_“Cherry Girl”_ **

**_..._ **

That could be anyone. 

_Don’t be a fucking moron._

You save the message and hang up. Your shaking hands punch Jay’s now-burned-into-your-memory address into your phone. It’s… **_he’s_ ** ninety minutes away.

You've dreamt of him for a decade. You’ve watched every episode of _Half in the Bag_ and _Best of the Worst;_ kicking yourself in the ass for missing your opportunity at the film fest. You’d have given anything for another chance. 

But this isn't another chance. 

This is a sweet, funny, smart guy sitting miserable and drunk and alone the day before his birthday. 

And he reached out to you. 

Would it be so bad to see if he was okay? Stupid little decade-old crush aside, he was a nice guy and you hate to hear him so sad.

_This is insane._

You need a second opinion; someone to talk some sense into you. 

You dial a familiar number and Ashley picks up.

“Ash… I can’t make brunch. I’m going to Milwaukee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I'd post a few chapters early to get everyone in the mood to celebrate Jay's birthday!
> 
> Poor drunk Jay! Don't you want to go snuggle him?
> 
> What do you think so far? Let me know!


	3. Sunday, September 13th 2020 11:27am - Knock Knock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go for a drive and knock on an unfamiliar door.

The battle in your mind rages on over the next eighty-seven minutes. 

_Whaaaaaat the fuck are you doing?_

I’m just going to check and make sure he’s okay. 

_This is weird._

Shut up. It’s fine. 

_What are you going to do if he doesn’t recognize you?_

Just gonna pretend to be a Jehovah's Witness and run away.

_Flawless plan. Nailed it._

You pull onto a tree-lined street in an older neighborhood in South Milwaukee. All the houses are on the smaller side with happy, giggling children playing on every other front lawn. Your GPS blares through the speakers:

**< < YOUR DESTINATION IS ON THE RIGHT >>**

You park on the opposite side of the street and grip the wheel tight. 

_What the fuck am I doing?_

**< < YOUR DESTINATION IS ON THE RIGHT >>**

You close out of your maps and pull your keys from the ignition; peering through your passenger window at the home across the way. 

The house is beautifully kept; two stories and light bluish-grey with white trim on the windows. A huge oak tree sways in the fall breeze and casts shadows across half of the house. The short set of front stairs lead up to a small porch and a blood-red door with a brass knocker. The grass in the front yard is a little long, but free of weeds. Juniper bushes and large hostas hug the sides of the house and lead to a back gate.

“WHATCHA DOIN’?”

Your knees slam up into the wheel as your whole body jolts in terror. 

Apparently, some demon child just apparated out of nowhere and is now standing outside of your car. You turn to your open driver’s side window as he waits patiently for your answer. 

A huge pair of green eyes peer expectantly into yours from under a mop of dishwater-blonde hair. The little boy can’t be more than six or seven. Two prominent front teeth hang over the boy’s blue Kool-aid stained bottom lip. 

He looks **exactly** like Jay. 

_Holy shit he has a kid._

You both blink at one another. The Jay-child gazes at you quizzically, while you look back with a primal fear.

_Holy fucking shit he has a kid._

“Tyler, honey! Come on, it’s lunchtime!” 

A beautiful young blonde woman waits in the doorway of the single-story home you parked in front of. Their lawn is full of countless dandelions, tiny plastic construction vehicles and water sprinklers. 

“Bye lady!’ Little Tyler yells and runs toward the bright yellow house.

Relieved, your head falls forward, colliding with your steering wheel and blasting your horn. 

“FUCK!” you scream as the honk echoes through the neighborhood.

**_Good god what the shit are you doing here?!?!_ **

You try to breathe and calm yourself; checking your teeth in the rear view mirror one more time.

“Just knock on the door, make sure he’s okay, and get out,” you instruct yourself. 

You grab your bag before getting out of your car and head for the gray two-story. Your jeans cling to your legs in strange places; the unavoidable result of a sweat-inducing 90-minute car ride and an ambush from the adorable demon across the street. 

You walk up the wooden stairs into the shade of the small porch. There’s a tiny, wrought-iron table tucked to the corner of the deck on your left. A solitary iron chair sits near the table facing out towards the street. A legal pad full of scratchy notes and a well-worn copy of _Where Nightmares Come From_ by Clive Barker sits dog-eared on the table. 

Yeah. This must be the place. 

_Just knock on the door, make sure he’s okay, and then get the hell out of here._

You swallow hard and use the brass clacker on the blood-red front door. 

*clank clank clank*

…

No one answers. No sound, no nothing. Just the bright, giggling laughter of children down the street. 

…

 _Shit!_ What should you do with your hands? _Do you put them at your sides?_ No. That’s weird. Maybe behind your back. _God, even weirder_. You’re sweating through your shirt as well as your pants now. _Why didn’t you bring another shirt, you fucking jackass?!_

...

You wait another few seconds and knock again - this time a bit louder. 

*CLANK CLANK CLANK*

You hear something like a sack of potatoes hitting the floor. The front door rattles on its hinges and a cat meows loudly on the other side. 

“Ooouuwwww,” comes a craggily groan. 

Your heart beats out of your chest.

“Owwww….god! Fuckin’ shit, man! God damn… I’m comin’,”

You hear Jay’s voice on the other side of the door and it takes every single fiber of your being to not run away. 

“Regan, come on… I gotta… honey… you gotta move.”

A bolt lock twists away and the door opens by just a few inches. Jay’s swollen, red eyes are immediately blinded by the near-noonday sun. His shaggy hair sticks to his forehead as he tries to shield his face from the onslaught.

Jay squints at you for a moment; his eyes trying to adjust to the light. A streak of silver hair sparkles at his crown.

“Can I help you?” he rasps.

“I… uh… actually,” you manage to say. “I was actually hoping to help _you_.” 

Jay’s face scrunches up in confusion and your mind goes blank.

_Why the HELL didn’t you practice for this in the car?! You had 90 **fucking** minutes! _

Jay’s face morphs into profound annoyance and your next words explode out of your mouth:

“You called me! … Uh... last night. You called. Uh, me. Actually left a five-minute long voice mail.”

Jay takes his hand away from his eyes to get a better view of the apparently insane woman on his doorstep.

You smile warmly and the recognition finally hits him… _like a brick to the face._

“FUCK!” Jay exclaims as his hand slaps his forehead. “I thought I fucking dreamt that! God, _fuck_... I’m so sorry! Fuck.” He apologizes. “I didn’t mean to call you.”

Your heart plummets into your shoes. 

“Oh! Uh. Okay. Well I just thought you…”

“How… how in the hell… god, how are you here?” he injects. You try to put yourself together enough to reply.

“I… uh… well, I actually live in Chicago now. I... got your message and I was really happy to hear from you, but you sounded terrible. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah. I am. I’m really fucking embarrassed and hung over as shit, but I’m fine,” Jay explains as he hides most of his body with the door. “Totally fine.” His eyes focus on the floor near your feet. 

Five seconds pass in silence. The wind chimes hanging from the porch next door clank with several dissonant notes as your stomach churns itself into knots. You shift back on your heels and pick at your cuticles like the awkward, insecure nerd you once were.

_What the fuck were you thinking?_

Your eyes dart to the floor as the fear threatens to boil over. 

“Okay. Well if you're alright, I can go,” you offer. You take a shaky step back and pivot toward your car; cursing yourself for showing up on his doorstep.

Jay says nothing. 

You turn half of your body to look at Jay and give him a weak wave goodbye. “I… I hope you have a good birthday, Jay.”

You make it to the edge of the patio before Jay finally speaks up.

“No!” Jay yelps from his entryway. He holds the door open wide and you look up to see he’s in the same goddamn _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ t-shirt he was wearing the last time you saw him. Jay’s bare feet stick out of the bottom of his red and white flannel pajama pants. 

“Uh, you came all this way… Do you wanna? Uh… sorry… I didn’t mean to make you… I just... god... uh... Do you want to come in?”

You turn to face him and see Jay's eyes flitter around nervously. He looks at your shirt, then the ground, his front table, at each of your feet, and _finally_ into your eyes. 

“I don’t know, Jay,” you reply with a shake of your head.

Jay’s shoulders sink.

“Do you promise not to skin me and turn me into a lady-suit?”

A smile finally cracks across his disheveled face. Those two, perfectly crooked front teeth cut into his lip and you swear he’s glowing. 

“I actually… I finished my lady suit years ago,” he chuckles. “I _am_ rebinding an old necronomicon, though.”

“Well all of the best-quality necronomicons are bound with heretic foreskins, so I don’t think I’d be any use for that,” you tease. 

“Yeah, then you should be fine,” Jay assures you. He pivots in the doorway and holds his hand out in invitation. “Come in. Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter! The idea of Jay falling off of his couch with a raging hangover makes me so happy. And his kitty makes an appearance!
> 
> Hope you're all enjoying this! Leave me a comment or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Sunday, September 13th 2020 11:40am - Coffee Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You catch up with a very hungover Jay Bauman.

Jay’s house has been meticulously remodeled, but appears pretty messy at the moment. You have to step over a pile of Converse All-Star tennis shoes near the front door to get inside. Cool gray paint covers every wall you can see, all with crisp white crown molding near the ceiling. The trim along the doorway and around every window is also shining white.

You follow Jay to your left into a comfortable-looking living room. Large, framed posters line the walls. Vintage _Pink Flamingos, PeeWee’s Big Adventure,_ and _Fire Walk with Me_ posters make the room uniquely his. Jay’s charcoal gray couch is in disarray, but the black blanket and red pillows there perfectly match the bold accent colors on each poster. 

Jay throws his blanket behind the couch and motions for you to sit down. He gathers up six empty beer bottles from his coffee table and scampers off to dump them in the recycling bin in the kitchen.

Jay’s home has a lovely brick fireplace in the living room, framed on both sides by floor-to-ceiling white shelves. DVDs and BLUrays line every single inch of space, all organized neatly by genre. Then alphabetically. Not by title, but by filmmaker.

_Of course._

Jay walks back into the living room and stands near the doorway. His hands search for pockets, but his red and white flannel pajama pants have none. He folds them behind his back and looks at you expectantly. 

“Can I get you something… uh.. god, what time is it? To uh… drink?” Jay scratches his head in thought. “I have coffee. Would you like some?”

Your stomach growls and you hope he didn’t hear it. You had expected to stuff yourself at brunch and only now realize you haven’t eaten since last night. 

"Coffee sounds great, thank you."

Jay goes back to the kitchen to make a pot. You hear an assortment of bangs, bumps, and curse words before he makes his way to the living room. He sits in the high-back chair nearer to his fireplace and clears his throat.

“So…”

“So…”

You speak in unison. Jay peers at your hands as you continue to pick at the cuticle of your middle finger.

_This isn’t you, god damn it!_

_You’re not some shrinking violet anymore._

_You can do this!_

Your spine straightens as your hands come to rest in your lap. You face Jay with your head held high. 

“Are you really okay?” 

Jay gives a halfhearted smile. “Uh.. honestly, I thought I was having a terrible day yesterday. One of the worst. And then you showed up, so now I know it’s the worst.”

“Always a flatterer,” you chime.

Jay shakes his head sharply in protest and the movement seems to give him the spins. He holds his head with one hand. 

“No! I mean… shit…. goddamn it. I mean just didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sure you're busy. Work, family, kids or whatever.” Jay leans forward over his knees and runs both hands down his beard. 

You don’t correct him on your single status or your lack of children. This really isn’t about you at all.

“I just went heavy on the Maker's Mark and I guess I got to reminiscing. Thinking about… I don’t know… what my life should be right now.”

“What your life 'should' be?” you question.

Jay leans back and stares at the ceiling. His finger nails dig into the arm rests.

“What happened, Jay?”

“Nothing. Really. Just a really shitty couple of days. Plus it’s my birthday.”

“You said that in your message.”

“You deleted that immediately, I hope?"

“I was going to" you laugh. But then you called me ‘Cherry Girl,’" you smile. "I can’t bring myself to delete that."

“Fuuuuck me,” Jay moans. “I… said that out loud, did I?”

“You did, yes,” you answer softly. “I was actually pretty sure you thought you were talking to someone else right up until you said ‘Cherry Girl.’ Unless of course you make a habit of impressing young women at bars with your cherry-thievery.”

Jay’s hands ball into a fist under his chin as he finally looks directly into your eyes. 

“No, no. Not at all,” he chuckles. “I’ve uh.. dabbled in card tricks and close-up magic since I last saw you, but uh… no takers just yet.”

You smile at his dead-pan joke and he looks back at you with the same beautiful green eyes you remember so vividly. 

"Oh!" Jay suddenly remembers the coffee and drags himself out of his chair before heading back into the kitchen. You look down over his messy living room table and notice a deep purple envelope with sparkling silver calligraphy. The stamp features a slice of cake with the word "LOVE” written in a swirly font. 

_You know that stupid stamp._

It's THE wedding invitation stamp. You personally find it cliché and kinda tacky, but it seems to be wedding law that all invitations have to use that damn stamp. 

A beautiful black cat hops directly on top of the purple envelope. Her yellow eyes seem to say, 'You’ll be petting me right now or you’ll be leaving.' 

Of course, you comply immediately.

Jay comes back a moment later with large green coffee cups in each hand. 

“You’ve met Regan then?” he smirks as you continue to pet the dark cat on the table.

“You named your cat after the possessed little girl from _The Exorcist?”_

“Of course,” he smiles as he holds out the cup in his left hand. You take the coffee and give your thanks. Jay sits back in his chair and takes a short sip. 

“So Chicago, huh? That’s great. I didn’t realize you were so close,” Jay chimes. “You work… uh… working?”

He makes a sour face and his eyes immediately go to his black-and-white chevron carpet. You can’t keep back a wide smile.

“Yep. I work,” you chuckle. “My dream of becoming heiress to a railroad tycoon hasn’t quite come to fruition yet.”

Jay laughs into his shoulder and a thick section of his hair falls into his eyes. He combs it back into place with his left hand and you lose your train of thought. 

“Uhhhm... yeah, I work in an office in Uptown Chicago. At Buzzfeed - It’s a lifestyle slash news slash shopping slash everything kind of site. Almost exclusively for Gen Y.” 

“I’ve heard of that site, yeah,” Jay nods. 

“I mostly write quizzes for people to find out what My Little Pony character they are or review worthless gadgets I ordered off of Wish. But it’s something that allows me to be at least mildly creative and still pay rent.”

Jay nods his understanding and chews his bottom lip; eyes still firmly on his carpet. 

“They actually got rid of a bunch of people not too long ago,” you confess. “Cause it’s cheaper to have 'volunteer content creators' than to pay us. I usually put out like ten to fifteen articles a day to try and distinguish myself. Also, cause it’s required. 

“But I really don’t know what I want to do for a career,” you add. “I’m kinda just killing time until I figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with my life.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Jay confesses. “I’m… I honestly have no idea what I’m doing, either.”

“You mean… like… you don’t know when you’re going to start filming _Space Cop 2?_ ” you smile.

Jay’s head falls back against his chair and he facepalms with his free hand. 

“Shiiiiit,” he groans. He looks at you through one squinting eye. “I take it you’ve seen some Red Letter Media stuff, then?” 

“Yeah, a bit,” you fib as you take a drink of black coffee. “I’m actually a big fan.” 

Both of Jay's eyes pop open wide: “Really?” he says with sarcasm.

“Absolutely. Especially _Re:View._ It’s fun to hear you talk about movies you love. You were so passionate about film; I’m glad you have a job where you can do that professionally.”

“Professionally? I don’t know if I’d call it that." Jay slurps his coffee and shifts in his seat. "I make a living doing it, which is nice. But I also have an army of twelve-year-olds calling me a ‘simp beta cuck’ on the internet every day.”

“They used to call Siskel and Ebert ‘soy-boy snowflakes’ all the time,” you assure him. 

“Really?” Jay laughs. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“One hundred percent true, yeah. And those guys were reviewing movies back before the internet. So all of the 80’s incels had to write out their crazy bullshit by hand - or cut the letters out of magazines and glue them together.”

Jay giggles behind his hand. “Sure. Right. And then you had to buy an envelope and stamps, go through all the work of finding Kathy Griffin’s home address - plus the drive to the post office. Harassing D-list celebrities used to be a real hassle.”

“Exactly,” you add. “No one appreciates how much work goes into cutting the eyes out of a Virginia Slims ad to make a quality death threat for Tony Shalhoub anymore.”

“Well I know I sure do,” he chuckles. 

“And that’s why you’re amazing.”

Jay’s chin hits his chest and his messy, golden hair falls over his eyes as he tries to hide his smile.

"So why are you sad before your birthday?" you ask lightly. "That's a pretty terrible time to be depressed."

You take a long sip of coffee. Even without cream or sugar, it's perfectly smooth without a hint of bitterness.

Jay runs his left hand down his stubbled throat and scratches his jawline contemplatively.

“I… fuck. I dunno. I guess I thought I’d be… settled… by now. Or maybe just everyone else thought so.

“I had all of these expectations about what life was going to be at forty, but I’m just not there. I'm not even sure I'll ever be there.

"So I thought of you - the only girl who’s ever proposed to me,” Jay chuckles. His cheeks flash pink just above his beard. “I guess I called you after I blacked out. Again, I’m really sorry about that.”

"No need to be sorry, Jay. I'm happy to be here. Just seeing you that shirt again is more than worth the seven dollars it cost to drive here."

Jay's shoulders shake with his giggles before another tsunami-sized wave of nausea crashes over him. He holds his temple with his free hand and tries to steady himself. 

“Let’s get you some food,” you insist. 

“I… I don’t know. I don’t feel so great.”

“Yeah clearly,” you smile. “But I don’t think it’s anything a pot of coffee and a good meal couldn’t fix.”

“You don’t have to, I’m sure you have other…” Jay tries. 

“Jay, I wanted to see you. I’ve wanted to see you for years. Let me at least get you some lunch.”

“I think… everything around here is pickup only now.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go get it for you and come back,” you assure him. Jay shrugs playfully and laughs. 

“I would really like that. Yeah,” he obliges. “Plus it’ll give me a chance to vomit a few times. Maybe pull on a pair of real pants if I’m feeling fancy.” 

“Oh ho ho! Very nice. But don’t go dusting off the fine china just on my account,” you laugh as you stand up from Jay’s couch and set your coffee on the table.

Jay gets up too fast for his own good and wobbles. He squints at you again and scratches his beard. 

“Would you… uh… would you like to see the studio? My studio. Not right now, I mean. But later… today... after...” 

“After lunch? Are you sure you’re not busy? It’s your birthday.”

“No! Not busy. Unless you…”

“I’d love to see your studio, Jay.” 

He smiles softly and tucks a stray section of hair behind his ear. 

“I’m going to pick up a few other things,” you explain on your way to the door. “Text me your order and I’ll swing by and get lunch for us.”

Jay follows you closely, tripping twice over the Chuck Taylor shoes in the entryway. 

“Hey!” he calls as you make your way to the end of his porch. You look at him over your shoulder as he stumbles. “I… uh… I…”

You turn to face Jay fully and smile wide; waiting for the words to come to him. He finally takes a deep breath and smirks back. 

“Thanks,” he says simply. 

“No problem,” you reply. “You go enjoy your hangover vomiting.”

“Will do!” he laughs. He throws you a little salute and heads back in. You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him walk away.

Yep.

 _Ridiculously_ hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a little early today, but you'll still have plenty of chapters to read on Sunday!
> 
> What do you think so far? Excited for that studio tour? Me, too!


	5. Sunday, September 13th 2020 12:15pm - Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You grab lunch and put in a special order. Jay cleans up.

A short drive away, the gleaming lights of a Meijer grocery store bid you welcome. It's been a while since you've had a hangover even moderately close to the one working its way through Jay at the moment, but you do have a sure-fire solution: Pedialyte. 

Sure, the stuff was designed for dehydrated babies but it also works miracles on hangovers.

You get a text as soon you step inside the store.

**[ (414) 571-9889 ]**

**_> > Hi. Georgie Pordgie's is a burger place nearby. They make awesome cheeseburgers. I'd love one. _ **

**_> > And fries if that's okay._ **

**_> > This is Jay Bauman. _ **

You smirk at the anonymous Wisconsin-area number. 

_Still an awkward nerd under all that hotness._

Incredible. 

You type in a quick reply:

<< I know it’s you, Jay. 🙂 I picked it up from context clues. 

_**> > Oh right. That makes sense.** _

<< You vomit yet? 🤢

_**> > A gentleman never tells.** _

<< Well I hope it made you feel better. Drink some water and relax, birthday boy. I'll call in your order now.

_**> > Okay. Thanks.** _

_**> > See you soon.** _

You smile down at the small screen and finally take the time to add his name to your phone. 

“J… A… Y…” you announce out loud as you key in each letter. Ten years waiting for that damn number, you’re going to relish the experience. 

An impressive selection of seasonal fruits and veggies line your path through the produce section. A large display of cookies and cakes catch your eye near the bakery. Twenty or so pre-made birthday cakes rest on large wire racks along the wall. Some have icing balloons and ribbons; some with roses and hearts.

They’re all.... _kinda terrible._

You'd like to get him something, but something special. Nothing here really screams, "Jay."

Mildly disappointed, you head toward the bakery counter to grab a pack of birthday candles. Maybe you'll just get him a cupcake or something. A shock of bright, neon-green hair peeks out from under a baker’s hat. The girl’s mouth and nose are covered with a cloth mask made from an old Vampirella t-shirt. Inch-long wings of black eyeliner frame her deep brown eyes. She looks absolutely miserable as she puts the final touches on a "Get Well Soon" cake.

_Oh I think she'll do just nicely._

You call the baker over with an excited wave. "Tabitha," if her name tag is to be believed, beams when you tell her your special order.

"Do you want me to draw a picture on the form?" you inquire.

"Not necessary! I got this," she smiles under her mask. "I have three of them at my house. I could make one with my eyes closed. Give me two hours."

You figure you can pick it up on your way home and drop it off on Jay's porch. Just a stupid something to make his birthday brighter. 

You take your receipt and give Georgie Pordgie's a call on your way to the pharmacy section; placing Jay's order times two. Jay's got good taste; he probably picked the best thing on the menu and that's good enough for you. The restaurant promises to have your food done in fifteen minutes.

_Perfect._

You make your way to the checkout after securing three of the largest bottles of Pedialyte you could find. You throw in some Tylenol and Alka-Seltzer just in case he's out. That should get him feeling like himself again pretty quickly. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Thirty minutes later and your car smells like hot french fries and melted cheese. Your mouth waters the whole way back to Jay's place. You park directly in front of his house this time, hoping to avoid the adorable little demon-child Tyler. You hide the birthday candles in your bag, unsure of exactly when you might have an opportunity to use them.

Both of your hands are full of hot food and hangover supplies as you reach Jay's front porch. You bend over to set the bags down and the door opens wide. You are greeted - not by Jay's comfy flannel PJs - but a pair of deep-blue, thigh-hugging jeans. Your eyes venture upwards and it's like looking into the sun.

Mother. _Fucker._

Jay's clearly showered, shaved, and put on one hell of a pair of jeans. His hair is perfect; tucked back behind his ears with a smooth swoop at his forehead. Jay's thumbs rest in the back pockets of his jeans, hiking up his plain black t-shirt to his belt line and drawing your eyes straight to… 

You're not sure how long it's been since you've blinked.

"Oh, shit! Sorry! Let me get that for you," Jay grabs both bags out of your hands and turns to head back inside. His arms flex underneath the short sleeves of his new shirt. The smell of freshly-showered Jay Bauman billows out of his doorway; a thousand times more mouth-watering than any cheese burger and fries.

Thankfully, you remember how to use your legs and take a shaky step inside. You prepare to sidestep the pile of shoes in the hallway, but they're nowhere to be found. 

“I have a table in here, if you’d like,” Jay beckons from down the hall. You pass the living room on your left. Every red pillow is perfectly placed on the couch. The black blanket is folded neatly and hanging over the arm of the sofa. The deep purple invitation along with all of the other clutter is gone. 

You walk into Jay’s kitchen as he grabs a pair of plates from a cabinet near the sink.

“Damn. You clean up really well,” you smile.

“Oh, yeah. Well, the house has been pretty messy with the quarantine,” he explains. 

“I meant YOU, weirdo! Christ, Jay. You look great.”

“OH! Okay. Uh... yeah.” Jay’s tries to hide his shy smile in his shoulder as he unpacks the grocery bag. He pulls out the large bottle of light-pink liquid. 

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you’d like, but Pedialyte always hel…”

“Oh thank god,” he gasps as he twists the cap off of the ‘Mixed Fruit’ bottle. He takes several gulps before catching his breath. “You’re a goddamn angel.”

“Well there’s a strawberry one and I think a grape one, too,” you laugh. “Plus some Alka-Seltzer in case you wanna get plastered again tonight.”

“Not planning on it,” Jay laughs after finishing another gulp.

“That’s probably for the best,” you snicker. You walk around the kitchen island and stand next to Jay as you unpack your matching orders of cheeseburgers and fries onto the plates. 

The table on the opposite side of the kitchen looks like it belongs in an old diner. The black laminate top is covered with shiny silver scribbles and wrapped with chrome trim. All of the chairs are also vintage-style with black vinyl cushions and white piping. 

“Did you get this kitchen set from Jack Rabbit Slims?” you ask as you set the plates down on the table. 

“Yes. I actually look to Tarantino films for all of my furniture needs,” Jay laughs before taking a seat. “My couch is from _Once Upon a Time in Hollywood,”_ he riffs. “Drapes are from _Inglorious Basterds.”_

“That’s a nice choice,” you tease. “Very classy.”

“The bar in the basement is straight out of _Hateful Eight.”_

“As it should be.”

“I even got a truck with ‘Pussy Wagon…” Jay’s mouth claps shut and he tries to hide behind his cheeseburger. “I’M SO SORRY!” he grovels. 

“For what?” you giggle. 

Jay drops the burger and covers his face with both hands. “Uhm…”

“What? Cause you said ‘pussy’?” you laugh. “Or was it the ‘wagon’ part?” 

Jay’s face burns red behind his fingers. 

“What if I said ‘pussy’ Jay? Would that make you feel better?” you deadpan. “Pussy. Pussy. Pussy. There. Do you feel better?” 

Jay’s head falls back over his chair and groans through his laughter. “Oh, god. I’m… no… no. Not at all.” 

You wrap your hand around his shoulder reassuringly. The tips of his ears flash bright pink.

“Jay. It’s okay. Everyone’s got a pussy, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Jay finally lets go of his face and laughs out loud. 

It's such a warm, whole-body laugh. It’s wonderful and contagious and takes you back ten years in an instant. 

Jay is beautiful; there’s no denying that. But now, possibly more than ever, you realize he always has been. 

“Well that’s true. I hadn’t thought of that,” he finally manages. “Thanks.”

Jay’s laughter subsides and you take a first bite into your cheeseburger. It’s even better than you hoped. Maybe that’s what all food tastes like on an empty stomach and two solid hours of adrenalin coursing through your body. 

Or maybe it’s the company. 

“So, Mr. Bauman,” you start with a smile. “What _have_ you been up to?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could that special order be?


	6. Sunday, September 13th 2020 1:00pm - Jay's Backyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch and feelings.

Jay takes a solid five minutes to fill you in on the last eleven years. The old job at the hardware store, the meteoric rise of Mike's _Phantom Menace_ review, the growth of Red Letter Media. It's all very fascinating, but you have to keep prodding him to talk about his own life.

"What about you, Jay?"

"I don't know. Not much, I guess. I bought this house. Kinda. It used to be my grandmother's place, so she cut me a good deal."

"Well I hate to see you low-ball your own grandmother, but it is really nice.”

"I'd already done some work on the basement and bathrooms for her, so she felt pretty good about me taking over when she moved. Would you like the tour?” Jay offers. You crumple up the napkins and take-out bag and throw them in the trashcan next to the fridge. 

“I’d love to,” you reply warmly. 

Jay walks you through the main parts of the house, pointing out all of the remodeling he’s done himself. The new tile backsplash he installed in the kitchen, custom shelves he made for his record collection, wainscoting in the bathroom, and even the deck he designed and built himself. 

“Wow,” you breathe as you look over Jay’s shade-covered backyard. “I can’t even change the oil on my car.” You turn to look at him and his eyes quickly divert to the lawn. “You must be really good with your hands.”

Jay chuckles lightly and crosses his arms over his chest. He rocks back on his heels and shrugs. “I honestly have _no idea_ how to change out the oil in a car, either,” he admits with a shy smile. "And I can't do plumbing. But I do like using power tools.”

You roll your eyes, but Jay’s too focused on the ground to see it. 

“I mean it, Jay. You’re incredible. Brilliant, hilarious, successful - AND you know your way around a buzz saw? Nice.” 

Jay rubs his elbow and makes an awkward face. The fall breeze picks up and rustles the maple leaves above your head. 

"What's with that, Jay?"

"It's.. uh… I don't know,” he stumbles. 

You don't do him the favor of looking away.

"It's what?"

He hides his face in his shoulder before walking closer to the railing along the deck. 

"It's… just… it's very nice of you to say."

You stand up and take a few steps to stand next to him; leaning against the railing on your right hip. Regan watches you both closely from the other side of the screen door. 

"What happened?” you inquire softly. “I'm happy to be here Jay. Really, it was no problem. But why did you call me now?"

"I dunno; I was black-out drunk. I had no idea your phone number would even work,” Jay replies as he picks at his cuticle. 

Sunlight filters through the boughs of the maple tree and makes the smatterings of gray in his hair shine like veins of silver. 

“If it makes it any easier to talk to me, we’re not friends,” you remark matter-of-factly. 

Jay laughs and shoots you a perplexed glance. 

“I’m serious, Jay. This is technically the _second_ time I’ve ever spoken to you. There’s no need to try and appease me or impress me. I don’t know you well enough to have any expectations of you, so it’s impossible for you to disappoint me,” you explain.

“You can be honest with me, which I would like; or you can tell me to go fuck myself. Either way, I’m still going to drive home afterwards and you don’t have to see me or hear from me ever again if you don’t want to.” 

Jay’s eyes volley from side to side as he weighs the information in his head.

“It’s stupid,” he says dismissively. 

“I once wrote a quiz called 'What Percentage Golden Girl Are You?', so I think that I should be the judge of what’s stupid or not,” you counter. 

Jay laughs out loud again. “That’s kind of amazing, actually. I’d probably be Rose.”

“Don’t be dense, Jay. You’re 70% Sofia, 30% Blanche,” you declare with a wide smile. “Obviously.”

“I’ll accept that,” Jay says with a smile. He looks ready to talk, but clams up again. He turns to rest his back against the railing and wraps both arms over his chest. His shoulders roll up to his ears before he speaks again: “But my thing is incredibly embarrassing.” 

“I just drove ninety minutes to answer the drunken phone call of a man I met once a decade ago,” you point out with a giggle. “So I might have the market cornered on embarrassing."

Jay laughs brightly in return, nodding his head in acceptance before running both hands down his bearded cheeks. He exhales loudly through both nostrils before speaking.

“I... got a wedding invitation,” he groans. There’s a lengthy pause as he grips the deck railing behind him. The pose stretches the black cotton fabric of his shirt tight across his chest, but you do your best to stay focused. “It's from my ex,” Jay explains.

“Do you want me to go egg her house?” 

Jay smirks, but shakes his head in the negative. 

“No, it’s not like that. We broke up like four years ago, but we’re actually still friends. Her boyf… _finance,”_ Jay corrects himself, “is a great guy. I’m really happy for her. For both of them. Honestly.”

You stand still, waiting for him to speak whenever he’s ready. 

“It’s just that invitation officially marked every one of my ex’s as married or engaged. Not that there was that long of a list. But they’ve all officially moved on to the next stage of their lives. And I haven’t,” he shrugs. “It just sucked to find that out right before my birthday.”

“That would certainly make for a shitty day,” you admit. 

“I know, right?!” Jay chuckles. He rubs the back of his neck and slowly inhales. He glances over to you for a moment before his eyes dash back to the deck near his feet. 

"Why not reach out to Mike or Rich?” you ask him. “Are you guys not friends in real life? Are you about to shatter all my preconceptions?"

Jay throws his hands up near his face and balks. 

"No! No. We're friends! Absolutely. It's just… we don't really talk about relationships or emotional stuff."

"Unless it's how scared you are of Neil Breen, I'd imagine."

"Yes, actually. We do bare our souls during those conversations," Jay answers. "But that's about it. Plus, they're all married, so I don't think they'd quite get it."

"What about your family?"

"Eh. My mom's pretty much resigned herself to me being a 'confirmed bachelor', even though I keep telling her that's what they called gay men in 1950's Hollywood."

"Sure," you smile. "Rock Hudson and all of his handsome ‘long-time roommates.’"

"Exactly. Yeah," he smiles. "But my brother and sister are both married with kids, so she's pretty okay with my life. My sister actually lives across the street."

_Ah. That explains the Jay clone! Thought you were going crazy for a second there._

You shake the thought of the adorable demon-child from your mind and get back to the business at hand:

"Well if it helps, I'm not married. And no kids… that I know of," you joke as you cross your fingers. "But it sounds like you're going through a lot. That sucks."

Jay buries his smile into his chest and starts again:

“I guess... I guess I was just feeling really down last night." He shakes his head and makes a fist with his right hand. "And I uh… I’ve actually had your number in my phone for ten years,” Jay confesses with a soft smile. He blows out a raspberry and stares down at his knuckles. 

“I’ve been so close so many times to just hitting that stupid green button, but I couldn’t do it." He picks at the nail bed of his left thumb. "It sounds so stupid, but you were like this fantasy - like my backup fiancé. It didn’t matter as much that I’m completely terrible at relationships because I always had this mythical girl - ever at the ready for me in the back of my mind."

Jay seems to choose his next words carefully. He nibbles at his mustache for a moment before continuing on. 

“But I couldn’t call. Because if I actually spoke to you, I’d know that you’d gotten married, or left the country, or worst of all - that you didn’t even remember me. Then the stupid fantasy would be gone and I’d have nothing; not even an imaginary, backup fiancé.”

His shoulders sag as he looks up to the swaying eves of the maple tree above.

"But I guess black-out me decided 'to hell with it' and finally pushed that button,” he reasons. He turns back to face the yard and grips the railing tight. “That was a lot. Sorry.” 

Jay’s face goes sour before he motions toward the front yard with his head. “Feel free to run screaming to your car now. I’d understand."

You take a second to make sure Jay’s said what he needed to say.

You shrug your shoulders and take a deep breath before you reply. “Yeah, I’m not running to my car or anywhere else. Not in these jeans, thank you very much. I think what you said makes perfect sense.” 

You take a step closer and study his face in profile.

“But _of course_ I remember you, Jay. How could I forget the man who introduced me to pineapple on pizza?” 

Jay rolls his eyes and lets out a breathy groan.

He's been honest about some really painful stuff. Maybe it's time to give him a little honesty back.

“I remember a funny, smart, creative and passionate guy who had a weirdly-intense love of film and really messy brown hair. Someone who laughed easily and often and made me feel important. I think the only thing that’s changed about you is that you’ve got a much better handle on your hair now,” you smile. 

He runs his fingers through the hair near his temples and glances in your direction.

"I found a good stylist," he admits.

"I'd fucking say so," you laugh. 

You mimic his posture; setting your elbows on the railing and looking out onto the somewhat-overgrown grass of his backyard. A tiny baby bunny bounds through the hostas along his back fence and Regan meows her threats through the screen door. You take a calming breath and start again.

“I thought about you too, by the way," you admit. "Not anything about the marriage deal, though.”

Jay seems to flinch in embarrassment at your admission, but you don't let yourself get sidetracked.

"I don’t know if you’ll understand this, being a man and all, but I think you were the first guy to actually listen to what I had to say. I wasn’t great at expressing myself under the best of circumstances back then. Not that anyone would listen,” you shrug. 

“Even if it was just talking about movies in some awful hotel bar, it meant a lot to me to _actually be heard_ \- especially by someone one who knew so much,” you confide. “And I didn’t have to pretend to be smarter or stupider than I was to keep your attention - I just got to be me. I’ll always remember that.” 

Jay looks over to you and cracks a sympathetic smile. You hold his forearm gently with your left hand and he looks squarely at you with those gorgeous green eyes. 

“I’m glad you called me,” you assure him.

“I’m glad you came.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters today! I hope you all enjoy them!
> 
> What do you think so far? Please let me know! Leave me a comment or stop by my Tumblr. I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> Also, you still have three more chapters coming tomorrow!


	7. Sunday, September 13th 2020 2:00pm - Studio Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You tour the studio and meet some of Jay's friends.

"You know, I'm really impressed with everything you've made for yourself here,” you praise him. 

"Thanks,” Jay smiles. “It is nice to do something I really enjoy. But you must have that, too… Being a writer sounds awesome.”

"I’m going to have to take your word on that,” you tease. “Buzzfeed doesn’t even trust me enough to make a 'Which Hogwarts House Do You Belong To?' quiz. Cause that's the big leagues; the kind of hot-shot writers who have walls on their cubicle. I can only dream of that level of success," you laugh. 

“Well speaking of mediocrity, do you want to go see the studio now?” Jay laughs.

"I would love that, yeah."

Jay moves away from the railing and opens up the screen door to lead you inside. 

“I can drive, if you’d like,” you offer. “I should probably head back home after the studio.”

“Oh! Uh, sure. Sure. That’s fine,” Jay falters as he grabs a black hoodie from his hall closet. 

“It’s just that tomorrow is Monday and… god this is embarrassing, but I have a toothbrush to review,” you shrug. “My boss will have my ass if I don’t get that done. Sponsored content waits for no one.” 

“Yeah, no. That’s fine. Makes sense,” Jay answers quickly. He grabs his keys from a hook in the entryway and you both head out the front door. “How else are the kids gonna know the right toothbrush for their specific teeth needs?” he adds.

“It’s a big responsibility, I know,” you smirk. 

“Well heavy is the head that uses the sonic toothbrush, I suppose.” 

You flash Jay an impressed look.

“Paraphrasing _Shakespeare_ for little old me? Is it MY birthday?” you tease. Jay hides his smile in his shoulder as he makes sure his front door is secure. 

You unlock your car for Jay and he sits in the passenger’s seat with his hands on his lap like a schoolboy. It’s absolutely adorable, but you figure it’s best not to comment. You start the engine and head down the tree-lined street.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jay points out the few Milwaukee landmarks along the way to the studio. Mostly, it’s just Panera Breads and pet food outlet stores. Can’t beat the company, though. 

You talk about your life in Chicago, your friends and family, and the brunch you skipped out on to be here. Jay’s face bunches up awkwardly at that last part.

“It’s fine. Trust me,” you assure him. “Probably just missed out on some soggy waffles and hour-old scrambled eggs. I’m much happier here. Plus Ashley _always_ treats me to brunch when she moves in with a new guy. I’m not a betting woman, but I’m sure I’ll have another chance before too long.”

“Is she some kind of black widow?” Jay asks with a crooked smile. 

“No. Not like that,” you laugh. “Well maybe. Actually, I think she just falls in love easily. I’m a bit more…” you pat the steering wheel as you try to think of the right word.

“...selective?” Jay tries. 

“Well that sounds a lot better than ‘jaded,’ so we can go with that,” you laugh. 

“You don’t seem jaded at all to me,” Jay points out. 

“I’m not. Not really,” you admit. “But I’m not all that interested in hookups, I _hate_ being set up on dates, and I actually really like being on my own.”

“So someone would have to be pretty special to pique your interest?” Jay asks as he looks out the passenger’s side window. You keep your small smile hidden by pretending to scratch your face.

“I’m actually saving myself for Indiana Jones,” you announce. “Not Harrison Ford, mind you - but the _character_ of Indiana Jones.”

“Oh man. You and me both,” Jay sighs. “Rugged, smart, punches Nazis on the regular, AND he’s a tenured professor?”

“He’s a quadruple threat,” you laugh. 

“Plus the hat,” Jay adds. He tries to count out five fingers using both hands: “So that's a… quin...tuple threat?”

“At _least_ quintuple,” you grin. Jay returns your smile in kind. 

He directs you north on one of the main thoroughfares and you pull off a few minutes later. Your car twists and turns through the empty streets of a business district before Jay instructs you to park. The large, featureless brick building is probably the last place you would look for Red Letter Media studio. 

“I thought you worked in the _Lightning Fast_ building?” you remark as you get out of the car. “Is that just a random photo you use?” 

“No, we used to be there,” Jay answers as he walks to the building and begins unlocking the front door with a set of jangling keys. “That was our second studio; next to the doggy day-care. We actually started out in an old factory building downtown. I think we moved here like three or four years ago.”

“Very cool,” you respond. You hope to god he didn’t think you were quoting _The Nerd Crew_. 

Jay holds the glass door open for you and you step into a small, totally unremarkable waiting area. The walls are completely bare white with stacks of brown cardboard boxes piled up waist-high around the room.

"Sorry, we just got a bunch of merch in. I need to get it organized," Jay apologizes. He opens the door on your left... directly into Mike Stoklas's face.

“AH GOD DAMN THE FUCK!!?” comes Mike's booming voice. 

Jay winces and tries to apologize. Mike rubs his forehead. 

“I thought I heard someone breaking in! For fuck’s sake, Jay!” Mike yells as he checks his fingers for bits of brain matter. “What the fuck are you…” Mike looks past Jay straight into your wide open eyes. 

"Oh hey," he says with a charming smile.

"Sorry!" Jay pipes. "I didn't know you were here."

"Yeah. I'm doing a _Star Trek TNG Re:View_ with Rich before he goes home," Mike replies without taking his eyes off of you.

"Ah. Gotcha. This is my friend…"

"Oh that's a shame," Mike interjects.

Jay continues his introduction unphased. "...she's just here for a quick visit."

"Welcome," Mike says as he puffs out his chest. His deep brown eyes sparkle under his long eyelashes. "I'm Mike."

This beautiful bastard clearly doesn't need any more attention.

"Hello Mike," you say as you take a step closer to Jay. "Jay was going to show me where he works. Do you work here too?”

"Uh.. I.. yeah," Mike blinks; a bit deflated. "Do you not…?"

"She knows who you are, Mike." Jay chimes.

"Oh! Okay." 

"Mike here is extremely married," Jay explains. "But he's not above flirting with a beautiful girl."

"Beautiful _woman_ ," Mike assures you.

"It's nice to meet you, Mike," you say as you shake his large hand. "I love your _Star Trek_ chats with Rich, by the way. I think your early reviews of the films were totally spot-on," you praise. "You gave me a new-found love for the original series."

"Where in god's name has he been hiding you?" Mike says as he cocks a handsome smile.

"Chicago, mostly," you smile back.

"And from my hometown, too? Goddamn!”

Jay steps in front of Mike's gaze and addresses you directly: "So that's Mike," he explains.

Mike waves enthusiastically to you over Jay's head.

"And this is the main office," Jay continues as he motions around the room. "Which is pretty pretty boring, really." 

He walks you back past Mike at the door back into the entryway and down a long hallway. Mike heads toward an editing desk on the other side of the room. 

Dozens of framed photos of celebrities like Jeffery Combs and Len Kabazinski are hung on the walls of the hallway. A huge poster of _Ryan's Babe_ , signed by the director, is the last item on the right just before a solid metal door.

"And this is the main studio," Jay explains as he opens the heavy door. 

You step out into a huge, open expanse. The _Re:View_ stage is set up with its velvety curtains on your left, the lights still beaming down on the two leather chairs. One of the _Wheels off the Worst_ is on your right. Thirty feet down the way, you can make out the _Lightning Fast_ set as well as Plinkett's house. To the right of that is the _Plinketto_ board. Rich Evans stands at the entrance to a workshop at the far end of the warehouse, rolling a long black cord around his arm.

Every part of you wants to run giggling to each set, but you try to calm yourself as best you can.

"Hey Rich," Jay shouts and waves down to the workshop. 

Rich gives him a simple head nod acknowledgement and gets back to work on the cord.

"Yeah. So, uh…"

"It's amazing!" you squeal. You clear your throat and try to play it cool. “I.. I’m.. It’s, yeah. It’s… _bravo_ , I guess.”

Jay hides his smile again and you reach out to grab his hand. 

_Fuck being cool._

"Honestly, Jay. This is so fucking incredible!"

He brushes his smirk away and walks you down the main drag, pointing out all of the sets. You take in every detail you can, stopping to get a good look at all of the photos and notes on the corkboard of the _Lightning Fast_ set. 

Jay shows off all of the lighting mounts he welded together himself, the stacks of VHS’s behind the _Best of the Worst_ table, and even the dozens of repairs he’s made to the walls of Plinkett’s house. You’re amazed it’s still standing. 

"What's up?" comes Rich's warm voice from behind you. Jay takes a moment to introduce you.

"I'm just showing her around the place," Jay answers. "She's a big fan of yours," he adds.

"I doubt that, but it's still nice to meet you," Rich says.

“No!” you insist. “I really am. Your prank calls are fucking hilarious. Even when you got a little racist with it.” 

Jay nods his head in agreement. “She’s right. You do tend to get a little racist,” he deadpans.

“Goddamn it!” Rich sighs in defeat.

Mike appears next to Rich, dusting off his shirt with one hand. "Jay, while you're here, could you check your email? There's a question about an invoice I don't recognize.”

"Yeah, no prob." Jay turns his sparkling green eyes to you. "Uh… are you okay waiting here?"

"Totally," you reply excitedly. "Do what you need to do."

Jay heads back to his office and you're left with Mike and Rich near the workshop.

"Okay, well if there isn't anything else, I'm gonna take off," Rich announces. 

It seems like it's every other day at the studio for these two. 

"Are you guys really not doing anything for Jay's birthday?" you ask expectantly. “He’s forty today.”

"Ooooooh, _shit,_ " Mike groans. Rich winces awkwardly. 

Adorable as they are, you can’t just leave Jay with these two louts.

"Well we're going out for drinks after this," you boldly lie. "It would be great to spend some time with you." Rich bobbles his head in consideration. 

_You’re losing them! THINK!_

“I’d really love to hear more about how you guys feel about _Deep Space Nine._ I mean, it’s _Star ‘_ ** _Trek_** _,’_ right? Not _Star ‘Wait In One Place and See If Something Interesting Happens.’_ Am I right?”

Mike and Rich both consider that for a moment. 

"You headed to SafeHouse then, I’d imagine?" Mike asks. "That seems to be Jay's favorite bar lately."

"Yep," you chirp. "That's the plan."

Mike appraises you for a moment. His dark eyebrow raises up to his hairline.

"How long have you known Jay?" he inquires smoothly.

"Long time. Little over ten years, I think."

"I see," he replies swiftly. "And where did you meet him?" 

"A convention."

"You sure it wasn't a film fest in Minneapolis?" 

Mike throws you a huge shit-eating grin.

_This motherfucker right here._

"Yeah, actually..." you manage as you glare back at him. "...Now that you mention it, I think you're right. In a Holiday Inn conference room if I remember correctly."

Rich looks back and forth between you two and grins like he’s waiting for a punchline that never comes. 

"Well I can probably swing another few hours. Just gotta clear it with the missus," he announces. Rich walks away and begins searching through his cellphone. 

You and Mike eye each other with suspicion as Jay makes his way back.

"Okay, that's all taken care of," he informs you both. 

"Yeah. So drinks for Jay's birthday at SafeHouse," Mike announces. "Are you guys headed there now?" 

Jay’s brow furrows: "What do you m…"

"It sounds like a little birthday celebration for you," you quickly inject.

"Exactly. We weren't going to forget your birthday," Mike says as he grab’s Jay’s shoulder.

"Oh! Wow! Sorry. Thanks. I didn't think you guys remembered," Jay admits.

"There's no gifts, though. I'm buying you birthday shots, old man," Mike says.

Rich walks back into the fold. "And I'm giving you the always-underappreciated gift of a designated driver, you drunk fucks."

"Actually, I have to pick up some things before then… so maybe I could drive separately?" you remark.

"Sure. Feminine things from the lady store, I'd imagine," Mike laughs.

"Oh... okay, yeah," Jay smiles. He looks at you with an open expression. "Do you know how to get there?" 

You grab your phone from your bag and wave it flippantly. "I'll get there. No problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Mike and Rich are here!


	8. Sunday, September 13th 2020 3:30pm - SafeHouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks start flowing at the local bar. You embarrass yourself for a good cause.

You check your text messages and see a notification from the Meijer bakery. It seems that Tabitha has completed airbrushing, in her words, "her masterpiece." 

You're able to swing by the Meijer bakery and grab your special order in a blink. You’re too pressed for time to even sneak a peek at the cake before typing “SafeHouse” in your GPS.

You park towards the back of the lot. A tiny redhead greets you at the door of the dive bar.

"Welcome to SafeHouse, do you need to…" 

"Hi… uh… Chrissy," you say as you read her name tag. You balance Jay's cake on one hand and dig through your bag for the candles with the other. "Could you plate this up properly and get the candles in there?" It's my friend's fortieth and I'm a very generous tipper."

"Yes ma'am," Chrissy pipes. "Would you like us to sing 'Hap…" 

"I'd pay you extra not to," you cut her off.

"No prob," she answers cheerfully before grabbing the cake and heading back toward the kitchen. You check your phone for any messages before sauntering through the bar looking for a sign of your party.

Jay and company are at a high-top table near the bar. Mike, Rich, and surprisingly Jack and Josh are all present. Jay waves you over. 

He greets you with a happy side-hug and introduces you to the table. Jack raises an eyebrow and looks at Mike. The larger man nods sharply. 

"Do you want something to drink?" Jay asks as he flags down the server. Janice, a stout woman with a huge, pink flower pinned in her brown hair stops in her tracks next to you.

"What could I get you, honey?" she asks kindly.

You search the table for a drink menu, but Jay chimes in quickly:

"She'll take your pinkest, girliest cocktail with an umbrella and an extra side of cherries," he explains.

Janice eyes you expectantly. 

"Wow. Yeah. That sounds great," you tell Janice. She moves quickly away and you smile happily at Jay. "Thanks." 

His two perfect front teeth cut into his bottom lip as he grins back.

Rich vacates his seat next to Jay and moves to sit across from Jack’s chair at the table. 

"I didn't know you were having a party tonight," you tell Jay.

"Me either," he says with a giggling shrug.

“Now that we’re all here, I’d like to say a few words about Jay Bauman,” Mike declares as he bangs his fork against his pint glass. 

“He’s my friend. And he’s forty now.” Mike waits for applause but he only gets an awkward chuckle from Jack.

Josh stands up with his pint held high. 

“I’d also like to say something about Jay,” he starts. The table falls silent. “He’s a swell guy and I like him quite a bit.”

The table groans in unison. Jack shakes his head disapprovingly and motions to Josh to take a seat.

“You guys are fucking terrible at this,” Jack insists as he stands up tall. He clears his throat and places a hand on his heart. “Jay is great. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever met and I am honored to be able to sit at this table with all of you tonight.”

Everyone claps lightly in agreement and takes a drink. “Hear hear!” Josh adds. 

Janice sets your drink down and you let her know it’s time for the cake. 

Mike throws you a confident smirk and raises his pint. 

“I heard that Jay's old friend here wanted to say something on his special day,” he adds. 

You look around the table. Jack, Josh, Rich and Mike all stare directly at you. But sweet, pink-faced Jay focuses his eyes on the rim of his half-full pint glass.

“Yes, actually. I _would_ like to say something,” you say proudly as you stand and raise your frilly, umbrella-laden cocktail high in the air. 

“Jay is…"

You look down and are greeted by his absolutely perfect green eyes.

“Jay is....”

His toothy grin makes the words fall out of your mouth.

“... the most incredible, intelligent, and insightful person I have ever met… twice. He’s gracious and humble and kind. And like no one else on earth, he makes me feel truly seen." 

He smiles wide and the whole world outside disappears. 

"There are simply no words to describe how amazing he really is. His passion is inspiring, his laughter is contagious, and I am truly, deeply, and astonishingly lucky to have ever met him.”

Everyone sits in silence with their drinks held up high, shifting awkward glances amongst themselves.

"Also, he's forty today,” you add swiftly. “So drink up, fuckers."

Mike is the first person to clank his drink to yours in cheers. Jack, Rich, and Josh all mumble their agreement (with Josh adding a ‘huzzah!’ for good measure) and slam their drinks together as you take your seat. Jay’s face goes impossibly red and you worry you’ve overstepped.

“Looks like we have a special something for the birthday boy,” Janice announces as she steps to the table. She sets your special order cake in front of Jay and the whole table goes silent. 

Tabitha truly outdid herself. The small cake is exquisitely painted and detailed; a perfect, fondant recreation of the flesh-bound Necronomicon from _Army of Darkness._ Bruce Campbell himself wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from an authentic movie prop. The skilled baker even hand-carved a set of yellowing candy teeth for the horrific, gaping mouth on the book's cover. Deep, reddish-black syrup pools around the bottom on the cake like congealed blood.

The two candles on the cake, a “4” and “0” are placed near a rotting, blood-shot eyeball on the top right corner of the cake. The candle wax drips down onto the open eye in a truly disturbing display.

_It’s perfect._

You look up to Jay and hope to god he likes it. 

Jay sits open-mouthed on the edge of his bar stool. He blinks once, then twice, and then finally looks over to you. The golden candlelight illuminates his face so beautifully that you almost forget to smile back. _Almost._

You hold up your hands and bow down to Jay. 

“ _Hail to the king, baby._ ”

“Oh I should take a picture!” Jack chimes; clearly the dad of the group. 

“Use my phone,” Jay offers as he readies his camera. 

You lean back out of frame before Jay grabs one of the chrome legs of your barstool and noisily pulls your chair over to him. 

“Get closer!” Jack instructs. You oblige quickly, leaning into the crook of Jay’s neck. 

“Sit on his lap!” Mike shouts from his seat. Josh shames him with a scolding glance and Mike shrugs happily. “What?! I didn’t say ‘sit on his face’ like I wanted to.” 

“Say cheese!” Jack shouts.

“No!” you both say together. Jack cracks a smile behind the camera and finally takes a picture. He hands the phone back to Jay. 

“I just need to send it to my mom so I can prove I’m not ‘moping around the house’ on my birthday,” he explains. 

“Yeah. That’s fine,” you answer. You point down to the now half-melted candles on Jay’s Necronomicake. “But you should probably make a wish first.”

“Oh shit! Right!” he yelps. He takes a moment to center himself and wrinkles his brow in thought before taking a huge breath. 

Jay blows out the candles and the table erupts with applause. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Everyone buys Jay a round of shots for his birthday. Mike goes with a round of Makers Mark, Jack orders Scooby Snacks about a half hour later. Josh gets a round of Grape Apes, and Rich of all people orders bottom-shelf tequila shots for everyone an hour after that. 

“No, what I’m saying is that Zack Snyder was billed as the next James Cameron,” Jay declares as he finishes a bite of his cake, “But he’s not at all. If anything, he’s clearly the next…”

“Ridley Scott,” you answer with a sip of your second cocktail. "Well, old, senile Ridley Scott anyways.”

Jay looks at you with wide eyes as you continue on: 

"Cause he’s all about the impact of the visual spectacle instead of the narrative.”

“Fucking _exactly!”_ Jay beams. “Because they’ve both used incredible imagery to create these awesome and super immersive worlds that make us want to know more.”

“Right, but then they fail to deliver on even the most basic promises they make cause they don’t value story.”

“Well that and they’re obsessed with Christian imagery and so far up their own ideological asses that they can’t see the nose on the front of their faces.”

Mike bursts into laughter. 

“Jesus fuckin' Christ!” Mike yells over his shoulder. “Get a room, you two!” 

He turns back to Jack and leaves you and Jay to your own devices.

You feel your pink cheeks flash red as you try to recover from Mike’s comment. Jay hides his smile with both hands and tucks his chin to his chest. 

_It’s not really flirting,_ you reason. Jay's just really knowledgeable and a great conversationalist. That’s why talking to him is so amazing. 

And he's cute. God, he's so damn cute. 

**_Shut up, brain!_ **

You realize it’s your turn to buy a round. But you’re… god, you’re pretty drunk right now. You order a round of fresh waters instead. You study a spent lime in the salt-rimmed shot glass in front of you and an idea strikes. 

“Hey Jay,” you beckon to him over the loud bar noise and he leans in closer to hear you. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a birthday present.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jay replies. “You gave me a birthday party and probably the single most disturbing cake ever made. It’s awesome.”

“Well I’m glad you liked the cake, but the friends are all yours,” you smile. You move closer so only he can hear you. “But I was thinking… I hate that you felt embarrassed about calling me.”

“It’s… I don’t… it’s okay. I just… I...” he diverts his eyes back down to the table as he stumbles over his words.

“See!? Exactly! You gotta stop it with that shit, Jay! We have an uneven power dynamic right now,” you laugh. You rub your palms together as you scheme. “I gotta level the playing field.”

Jay's head tilts sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I gotta be embarrassed, too!" you declare. "And judging by your lack of eye contact, it’s gotta be **_really_ **bad to make us all even-Stevens. But don’t worry. I got this,” you shout before standing straight up and heading over to the jukebox.

You fiddle with the screen for a moment and find your intended song surprisingly quickly, despite your healthy buzz and your having no idea who actually performed the damn thing. You make your selection and swipe your credit card. The god-awful country music currently blasting out of the speakers cuts short as you make your way back to the table. 

You stand next to Jay’s chair as the jaunty acoustic guitar starts. You flash a wink to him as the rhythmic clapping of the song kicks in. The table goes quiet as you do your best Pee Wee Herman impersonation: tapping your foot and flicking your chin up to the beat of the high-hat cymbal.

“No fucking way!” Jack gasps.

Josh gawks at you; an ecstatic smile reaching from ear to ear. 

“Yes,” he declares with a slow nod. His long beard bristles against his chest. “Yes.”

You stand at the end of the table next to Jay and bend your knees sharply. You make two fists at your sides and wait for the saxophone. When the brassy instrument begins to blare, you bop your thumbs together in front of you twice, then twice again behind your back. 

“Ho..lee..shit,” Mike laughs. He begins to clap along to the beat as _Tequila_ continues to blast through the sound system. 

Jay reaches up and slaps his hands to both cheeks at the same time. His mouth hangs open as you tap your hands together above your extended knee and then behind your back again. You sway your hands above your head, trying your best to do the exact moves from _Pee Wee’s Big Adventure._

You reach to the table and grab three napkins and a straw, throwing them to the ground in quick succession as Jack, Josh, Mike and even Rich cheer you on. You flail your arms near your face like you’re swimming and try to remember the next part of the dance.

_Shit, this is when Pee Wee does the whole thing on his tip-toes._

You’re not coordinated enough to do that even when you’re stone-cold sober. _Fuck it, you’ve already come this far_. You bring one foot up and prepare to try your luck before Jay grabs your arm. 

He’s laughing so hard he’s crying. 

“You’re going to kill yourself if you try that,” he pleads. He wipes tears away from both eyes. “We’re even, we’re even!” he shouts over the music. You smile down on him as he tries to catch his breath. 

“You saying you want to dance with me?” You tease as you pump your hands in time to the beat. 

Jay purses his lips in consideration for a half-second before sliding off of his barstool. He mirrors your movements exactly, pumping his fists together twice in front of his chest, then twice behind his back. 

“Yaaay!” screams Jack as he dances in his chair. Josh plugs his nose and does The Cannonball in time to the beat. Mike bops his head and air drums along with the cymbal and snare. Rich just stares at you all; open-mouthed and completely horrified. 

As the song ends, you wrap your arms around Jay’s shoulders and plant a kiss to his bearded cheek. A flash goes off somewhere in the distance. 

You hold him close and feel his calloused hands drift down slowly to wrap gently around your waist. Your nose nuzzles against his temple and you smile; drunk on the warm, perfect feeling of him in your arms. You speak just louder than a whisper:

"Happy birthday, Jay Bauman.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting a little self-revealy, aren't we reader? 
> 
> Did you like the cake? The drunk dancing? It's getting real romantic-comedy in here. I hope you like it!
> 
> What do you think so far? I'm dying to know how people feel about this chapter! Leave me a message or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/).


	9. Sunday, September 13th 2020 6:30pm - Jay's Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to Jay's place with Mike and Rich. Things get fuzzy.

You might be drunk on the feeling of Jay, but the four shots and two cocktails have certainly contributed. It’s gonna be a long while till you’re sober enough to drive home. That’s fine; it’s still early. Just gotta make sure you don’t have anymore...

“SHOTS!” Jay exclaims as a new round of tiny glasses are placed on the table in front of him. Jay hands them out to everyone with the exception of Rich and Jack, who get a fresh Diet Coke and a virgin strawberry daiquiri respectively. The ice-cold shot in your hand is pitch black with a tiny sliver of green at the very bottom. 

“What is this?” you ask him.

“It’s a ‘Black Phillip,’” he explains happily. He holds his shot up and waits for you to join in.

“Jay… I can’t,” you protest. “I gotta work tomorrow.” Jay pouts his plump bottom lip and gives you puppy dog eyes. 

“I gotta… the toothbrush review, Jay… I can’t..." you try as you hold your hand up in protest. Jay takes his left palm and presses it to your right; threading his fingers between yours. He holds the black liquid up to your mouth. 

“ _Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?_ ” he proposes with a mischievous grin. 

_Fucker._

With that smile, you’d probably give him the world if he asked you.

“God damn you,” you gripe before grabbing the shot from Jay and downing it. Jay follows suit with the other glass. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jack leaves the party first, offering a ride-share back to anyone who wants one, just like the responsible father he is. Josh’s fiancé Zoe comes to get him not too long after. The soft spoken woman with purple hair and rosy cheeks seems pretty amused at the rest of the group’s drunken antics. 

You, Mike, Rich and Jay still manage to keep things going. You ask about them about the stories behind some of your favorite episodes, especially meeting Samurai Cop himself Matt Hannon. That starts a tangent on modern-day sequels to classic schlock films that lasts twenty minutes. 

Once that thread winds down, you finally ask the question you’ve been dying to know.

“So why the fuck is Macaulay Culkin always on your show now?” you ask the table.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Rich declares as he slaps the table with both hands. 

“He just keeps showing up!” Mike howls. Jay’s head falls back in a hearty laugh. 

“It’s true,” Jay giggles. “He just texts me when he's at the airport. And I look around the office and ask, ‘Who the fuck is picking up Richie Rich this time?’” 

“Oh, shit that’s right!” Mike howls. “And I think last time Jack was like, ‘I fucking drove the Pagemaster all over Milwaukee last week!’”

You wipe tears away from your cheeks as your snorting laughter takes over.

“You think that’s bad?!” Rich yells. “Try telling your wife that fuckin’ Kevin McCallister puked all over your backseat!”

Mike holds his hands to his mouth to hold back his giggles, but you and Jay cackle freely. Rich shakes his head at you both and sighs. 

“Ah, Christ! I haven’t laughed like that since… well since this crazy broad did the fucking _Tequila_ dance!” Mike snickers. 

You wave to the table like Queen Elizabeth, bending at the wrist gracefully. “Thank you! Thank you.”

“Guys! We should watch that movie right now!” Jay shouts. 

“What, on your phone?” Rich chuckles. 

“No… no.. at my house,” Jay explains. “You can’t drive there, though,” he asserts as he boops your nose. “Cause you’re drunk.”

“Jay, I have to go home tonight,” you object. 

“What is it, like six?" Mike asks no one in particular. "If you stop drinking now and get some food in your stomach, you could sober up enough to drive home before midnight, probably,” he suggests.

“See, Mike gets it!” Jay cheers. “Okay. So Rich, would you be so kind as to drive us to my house? I’ll order delivery from Classic Slice and everyone can sober up there,” Jay offers. He looks to you with a reassuring smile. “And I can take you back to your car after.”

“Let’s fucking do it!” Mike yells as he stands straight up; knocking his barstool over in the process.

You pay for your lengthy tab, adding a generous tip to Janice, and head out to Rich’s car. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Forty minutes later and you’re all in Jay’s living room munching on a delicious Hawaiian pizza. Well, you and Jay are. Mike said something to the effect of “I’d rather choke on rat poison,” when he was offered a slice. Instead, he and Rich ordered a deep dish supreme and have already eaten half of it. _Pee Wee’s Big Adventure_ plays nearly unnoticed on Jay’s large flat-panel screen. 

“Did you know that the main title music for this was…” Jay begins. Mike cuts him off.

“... written by that weird asshole from fucking Oingo Boingo? YES!” he groans. 

Jay looks at you and rolls his eyes. He speaks a little quieter so it’s just you to hear him:

“I was going to say that the music is actually based on a song from Fellini’s _8½,_ ” he explains. 

“Really? I didn’t know that," you reply quietly. "But, it probably would have made more sense to use something from _The Bicycle Thief,”_ you point out. 

Jay shakes his head; very confused. 

“No.. that wasn’t Fellini,” he insists. “That was...uhhhh... De Sica.” 

“God!” you moan. “Not the director, you beautiful little dummy; the subject material! Do you get it? Cause it’s _The_ **_Bicycle_ ** _Thief_ … and Pee Wee Herman gets his bicycle stolen?” 

Jay squints one eye and stares straight up at his ceiling for a second. 

“OOOOOOooohhh!” he exclaims. “I get it!” 

Mike hides a giggle behind his hand and shakes his head.

“How in the hell are you both so drunk you can’t even walk straight, but you still remember who directed some fucking Italian films a hundred years ago?” he laughs. 

“Speaking of that!” Jay chirps before rocketing up from his chair. Without further comment, he walks to a beautiful old hutch near the dining room. He opens the dark doors of the cabinet and the distinct sound of several large liquor bottles clanking against each other fills the room. Jay pulls out three ornate glasses and heads for the kitchen. 

Jay returns and sets the glasses as well as a thin, frosty bottle of yellow liquid on the coffee table. He shakes the narrow bottle and shows you the label. 

“It’s for after-dinner enjoyment,” he smiles. 

“Jay, I… I don’t know,” you waver. 

“Well, shit! I’m gonna have one,” Mike yells over you. “Jay only has one fortieth birthday, lady! We can’t waste it!!” 

Jay pours one for Mike, one for you, and one for himself. The sweet, lemony scent of the ice-cold Italian limoncello is mouth-watering. 

“Okay. Fine!” you reply. “But just one.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, did I write this entire fic just to be able to have Jay Bauman say "wouldst thou like to live delciously"? - - - Maybe. 
> 
> That's it for today, my lovlies!
> 
> From here on out, everything is posted in real time. No more sneak peeks at the next day. Every day has at least one chapter and up to four per day!!
> 
> What did you think? How are we feeling? Are you as excited about this story as I am?!


	10. Monday, September 14th, 2020 8:43am - Jay's Couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up with a headache.

Your eyes flutter open to see sunlight streaming through the stained glass window in Jay's living room.

_Whaaaaaaat the fuuuuuuuck?_

You feel like a sack of rocks. Stupid, stupid, rocks. You try to get up once and fail miserably. You reach to move the lumpy pillow behind your head and hit Jay directly in the kneecap. 

Jay’s head jolts forward from the couch. He tightens his grip around your head and shoulders, pulling you close as he tries to understand his surroundings. 

His eyes flash down to yours and you stare at each other in silence. You blink a half dozen times before you try to speak.

“Jay. I’m going to need you to be completely honest with me right now,” you say with a crackly voice. 

He nods back down at your face in his lap and swallows hard. “'kay.”

You take a shallow breath and try to imbue importance into every word:

“Am I naked right now?”

Jay winces and his shoulders tense up to his ears. His eyes slowly pan down to your body in his arms.

"Oh thank god," he says with a sigh of relief. “No; you're good. Totally clothed. You still have your shoes on even.”

"Well that's... that's good," you mutter.

"Yeah," Jay says as he looks around the room. He absentmindedly pets your head like a cat as he tries to think. "I don't know what happened."

Normally, you'd put up a fuss, but Jay's soft petting brings your headache from 'soul-crushing' to merely 'horrendous'.

"It was that goddamn limoncello," you groan. 

"Riiiight," Jay breathes. He looks down and finally notices what he's been doing. His right hand stills at your hairline. 

"OH SHIT!" you yelp. "What fucking time is it?!"

Jay searches the coffee table and sees his laptop. He helps you to sit up and opens his computer. The clock in the corner of his screen reads 8:44am.

"A quarter to nine," he relays anxiously.

"Fuck! I'm so fucked!" You dig in your pockets for your phone but come up empty. "I can't… where's my phone… Shit!… I can't make it back to Chicago in fifteen minutes."

Jay joins the search and finds your phone plugged into his charger in the kitchen.

"Can you work remotely?" he suggests as he hands it to you.

"I could if I had my laptop, but it's at home."

You scroll down your contacts to Will and hit the call button. The phone rings just once before your coworker picks up. 

"What the hell are you doing _calling_ me? Is this 1997?"

"Will! Thank you for picking up! I'm in Milwaukee and I can't make it to the office in time!"

"What in god's name are you doing in fucking _Milwaukee?_ " Will asks with disgust.

"I…"

Jay makes an awkward face and casts his gaze to his black and white carpet. It looks like he can hear Will through your phone.

"... I got a phone call from a friend that I haven't seen in a long time and we drank... I think we drank _everything_ , honestly."

"Is he cute?"

"What?"

"Bitch, I know a Monday morning call-of-shame when I hear it," Will proclaims.

"It's not… it's not like that," you try to explain.

"So he's ugly?" 

You cover the side of your mouth and whisper-scream into your phone: "He's very handsome, goddamn it, but we're just friends. Nothing happened."

"Yawn!" Will groans. 

"I can come in after lunch. Can you let Vanessa know?" 

"Yeah. Sure. She's not even in yet,” Will casually relays. “I'll tell her you've got a migraine and you'll be back around one," he assures you.

"Thank you so much, Will. See ya soon." You hang up and tuck your phone into the front pocket of your hoodie.

Wait… _your_ hoodie? You didn’t bring a hoodie. It’s gotta be Jay’s. 

You make a note to yourself to freak out about that later. 

Jay's sitting on the edge of his couch, looking quizzically at his open laptop.

"You alright, Jay?"

"Yeah. Sorry. It's just Chrome is open to the fucking Wisconsin DMV. I mean… _shit…_ how drunk was I?"

You try to remember the foggier parts of the previous evening. 

Jay cracked open the limoncello. 

Mike wanted a new movie, so he popped in _American Ninja Warrior._

Another yellow shot. 

Rich left? 

Jay pointed out how handsome Michael Dudicoff was. 

_Agreed._

Laughed. 

Talked about pervy Menahem Golan, 

then Cannon movies. 

Watched _He-Man_ maybe? 

Mike looked them all up on Jay’s computer. 

Another shot probably? 

…...

Yeah. Another shot. 

Watched William Shatner’s _Rocket Man_ performance at the Grammys. 

So awful. 

So funny.

Lots of laughing. 

Then nothing.

"I have no idea," you moan. Jay looks up to you and tucks his messy hair behind his ear. You smile cheerfully despite your throbbing headache. "But I had a great time."

"Me, too," he breathes. "The parts that I remember anyways."

The morning sunlight streaking through Jay’s window kisses the right side of his beard; bathing his face with a deep golden light. The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles back at you. 

Something tugs hard at your chest and you do your best to stamp it down.

_Yep. You can ignore it. No problem._

Jay stands up from the couch and stretches each arm behind his head. The move tugs his black shirt up over his jeans and you catch a perfect glimpse of the dark, curly hair on the lowest part of his stomach. 

_It's not a real crush. You barely know the guy. Ignore it._

"Well I should make you breakfast before you go. You like waffles?" Jay offers with a hopeful expression.

 _Shit_.

"That sounds really nice, thank you."

Jay moves to hide his smile with his hand and you grab hold of him before he has the chance. You run your thumb over his knuckles and smile warmly.

"You shouldn't worry about hiding your smile," you assure him. "I think it's perfect."

He pulls away gently and covers his mouth again. 

"Thanks. But it's not the smile I'm trying to hide. It's the breath," he explains with a chuckle.

You check your own breath with your hand. 

"Oh my god! You're right!" you laugh as your eyes go wide. "That's foul. I'm so sorry."

Jay pivots quickly and heads down the hallway. He returns a moment later with a small package in hand.

"I have an extra toothbrush if you want," Jay says as he hands you the box. "It’s probably not as nice as the one you’re reviewing,” he smirks. “But it’s glittery... and uh… purple, which is cool.”

“That’s all I really need in a toothbrush,” you chuckle. 

“I'll get started on breakfast."

Jay heads for the kitchen and you're left with a nagging suspicion you're dreaming. You head to the bathroom and try your best to make yourself presentable. 

Though it seems that your hangover headache was hand-crafted by the Antichrist, at least you don't feel too nauseous. Jay's bathroom is clean and spacious, with waist-high white wainscoting and deep blue walls. A cream colored hand towel hangs from a hook next to the huge picture-frame mirror. 

You unpack your toothbrush and search through the drawers under the sink for toothpaste. A set of black hair ties and a stick of floral-scented deodorant rattles around the first drawer. 

Under normal circumstances, you might feel a pang of jealousy over this mystery woman who got close enough to Jay to leave a travel kit behind, but the pressure of your brain trying to burst out of your skull compresses it down to a helpless gratitude. You apply the deodorant liberally to your balmy armpits.

A travel-sized tube of toothpaste is in the second drawer along with a large collection of hotel shampoos and conditioners. You brush your teeth twice before scrubbing your tongue clean. You gag a bit, but it's a small price to pay to get rid of the fuzzy feeling in your mouth.

A quick wash with some name-brand cleanser that came in a foil packet, probably from a magazine, and you're back to some semblance of humanity. You dry your face with the back of the hand towel and hope it hasn't been too long since Jay last washed it.

_Seems clean enough._

You leave the bathroom with that fresh-from-the-dentist-clean all the commercials talk about. The sizzling sounds of bacon guides you to Jay's kitchen. 

Jay has all of the ingredients spread it over his center island. Eggs, flower, baking soda, butter, and powdered sugar are all measured and poured into separate nesting bowls. Jay has his back to you as he moves the bubbling bacon around in a cast-iron pan. 

"That smells amazing," you chime. Jay turns around quickly and tosses a towel over his shoulder. His shaggy hair falls into one eye and he smoothes it back behind his ear. 

"Thanks," he replies. "It's actually fake - well, it's veggie bacon. So, 'fakon' I guess.” He smiles bashfully and his teeth press perfectly into his lower lip. "My dad bought a case of it at Costco, and wound up hating it, so of course he gave it to me. It's actually pretty good, though."

He wets both of his hands under the kitchen sink and runs his fingers through his hair to keep it back.

"Do you look more like your mom or your dad?" you ask as you pull a stool out from under the kitchen island.

Jay's head tilts adorably as he tries to think. He’s got a pinch of flour on the corner of his nose and under no circumstances will you ever tell him about it.

"I'm not sure, actually. I know my sister looks exactly like my mom when she was younger. Let me check her Facebook.” Jay grabs his phone and a second later his eyes shoot open wide.

"The fuck?!" he curses. "Shit!"

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just… didn't mean for her to post...uh.. I'll tell her to take it down. I'm sorry. It's… shit… I'll text her right now."

"What is it?"

"It'll be gone in just a sec," Jay assures you.

"Why are you being weird? Just show me."

Jay makes a pained, remorseful face and hands you his phone. "I'm so sorry."

Your eyes take a moment to adjust so you can see what's got him so riled up on his Facebook feed. 

It's the picture Jack took of you and Jay before he blew the candles out on this cake. It's a pretty cute photo, actually. Jay looks amazing, of course, and it's a decent angle for you, too. You're not quite seeing the problem.

"I didn't know she'd post it when I sent it to her. I just wanted her to know I was having a good birthday.”

That's when you notice the caption. It's dated September 13 - 6:26pm by Sandy Bauman. 

_"My first baby boy is celebrating his 40th birthday with his new lady love!"_

_…_

_…_

_..._

_Oh._

_…_

_My._

_…_

_God._

Your hand slaps over your open mouth as you stare at Jay's phone. Warmth radiates from your cheeks. 

Jay runs to save the ‘fakon’ from burning, muttering curses all the while. He fishes the sizzling slices out of the pan a little too quickly and splashes hot oil on his knuckles.

"Ouch! Ow! God, I'm so sorry! I can call her right now." Jay reaches for his phone and you burst into laughter. You pull the thin device away before he can grab it. 

"It's got twenty-three likes!" you laugh. You scroll down further. "There's comments, Jay!" 

He runs after you to grab the phone.

"Ooooh! Susan Krause says _'He's quite a catch!'"_ you laugh as you dodge Jay's swinging hands. _"'Any new grandbabies on the way?'_ asks Ingrid Schmidt."

Jay stands on the opposite side of the island, covering his horrified face with both hands.

"Laurie Mills-Peterson just says, _'About time!'"_ Jay finally manages to leap over the corner and snatches the phone away. He's an absolutely mortified shade of pink. 

"Jay! Come on! That comment already had three likes!" you giggle.

"Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he says as he fires off a text. You try your best to stifle your laughter. "It should be gone in a few minutes." Jay sets both hands on the island and hangs his head down. His long hair hides his face.

"I think it's cute, Jay. I'm not mad about it at all. I don't even mind if she keeps the photo up," you assure him. "Maybe just have her drop the 'lady love' part? You know, cause I've only known you for about a day," you smile.

Jay quickly nods his head. "No, I'm right there with you. Absolutely. I get it." He looks over at you and wrinkles his nose. "I just can't believe she posted it. Pretty embarrassing."

You step next to Jay and smooth your fingers over his knuckles.

"I think that's what moms do," you shrug. "The good ones, at least."

Jay sighs loudly, but the faintest hint of a smile appears on his face.

"How about some breakfast?" he offers.

You ask if you can help, but Jay insists he can handle it. You watch as he whisks the ingredients into a batter; ladling the thick mixture into an electric waffle maker.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The meal is delicious. Jay serves you more waffles than you could eat in a week, dripping in butter and real maple syrup. Three slices of the veggie equivalent of bacon, a cup of fresh berries, and a tall glass of Pedialyte round out breakfast.

Your hangover slowly fades into the background as Jay tells you more about his family. He shows off pictures of all his young nieces and nephews - even Tyler. You mention meeting Jay’s young doppelganger yesterday afternoon, but Jay doesn’t share your theory that Tyler is a demon. ‘Just inquisitive,’ he explains. 

_Sure he is._

Jay inquires about your work writing at Buzzfeed and about Will in particular. You tell him about your life in Chicago, explain how very gay and very married Will is, and detail how proud you were to keep your latest houseplant alive for five months before realizing it was plastic.

The clock reads 10am when you finally set your fork down. 

"I really should head back," you reluctantly inform him. "I still need to get my car from the SafeHouse, if that’s okay. God, I’m probably going to have to speed the whole way home; all those 'Top Ten Reasons to Love Tom Holland' articles aren't gonna write themselves."

"Oh, Spiderman? I get it. That kid is an international treasure," Jay laughs. He grabs your plate and sets it next to the other dirty dishes near the sink.

“Agreed. But it’s actually strategic: he’s in an Amazon movie that’s going to be announced on Buzzfeed soon, so I gotta start up the PR machine early. Yay for vertically integrated marketing,” you sigh. “He’s going to be making English Tikka Masala on our Tasty site next week.”

Jay giggles at your droll expression. 

"You're a surprisingly competent chef, by the way," you needle him.

"Gee thanks!" he laughs as he scratches his mustache with one hand. "'Surprisingly competent' - that has gotta be the highest praise a man can get."

"I'm glad. You deserve the best," you smile.

Jay walks you to the back door after you grab your bag from the coffee table.

You follow him across the narrow cement path through his back yard into the garage and climb inside his blue Nissan hatchback. He pulls down the visor and slides on a pair of dark sunglasses before backing out into the alleyway.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The conversation is lively and natural during the short drive back to the SafeHouse. You spent a good while examining his perfect profile out if the side of your left eye.

_God, that long hair suits him._

Fuck... Every hair style he's ever had suits him.

_Focus up!!_

Jay parks next to your car in the lot and a notification in his pocket confirms his mother has changed the caption on the photo.

It now reads: 

" _My first baby boy is celebrating his 40th birthday with a lovely girl (that I’m not allowed to talk about, apparently)!"_

"Now _that_ I like," you tell him honestly. 

Jay smiles softly and drops his phone in the cup holder. You sit in silence for a moment before speaking over each other:

"Thanks for ever…"

"You know if you…"

You both chuckle lightly and fall into silence again.

You cough once and that seems to be enough to own the conversation.

"I'm glad you called me, Jay. It was great catching up with you."

Jay nods longer than strictly necessary and you wonder if he's actually ever going to reply. Finally, he clears his throat.

"Yes. Yeah. Absolutely."

Another few moments pass by.

"Well… I'm going to head back to the old ‘windy city,’" you try.

"Yeah. Okay. Cool," Jay distractedly mutters. 

Jay's car fills with silence.

You turn in your seat to face him more fully.

"Are you alright?" 

"I.. um… I'm…" he sighs. 

You set your elbow on the armrest of Jay's car and wait for him to collect his thoughts. 

"I'm still pretty embarrassed," he finally confesses. You try to interrupt, but he continues on with a wave of his hand: 

"Not for calling you. I'm glad I did that now. I just wish I hadn’t been black-out drunk at the time. Not the thing is... I’m embarrassed that I did it _again_ last night.

"I want you to know I don't normally drink like that," he assures you. "I haven't in _years_."

"Yeah, I saw the drunk Halloween episode," you inform him with a warm expression. "Where you killed all those cats.”

Jay chuckles despite himself.

He shakes his head and his smile fades.

"But the couch thing this morning… holding you... I'm sorry if… if you don't feel comfortable.. I mean, if you never want to talk to…"

"Oh my god! I forgot that part!" you gasp. "No! No. Don't worry about that! I’m fine.”

“But your toothbrush review, too… I’m so sorry I ruined that.”

“Jay, it’s okay. Really. You’re more important than a damn toothbrush review. I’ll just write a couple of extra quizzes to make up for it being a little late.” 

“Cause I really have no idea how that all happened,” he explains. “I don’t even remember why we were on the DMV website.”

“Maybe you confused DMV with IMBD?” you suggest. 

Jay's eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh! Fuckin’ shit! Maybe,” Jay laughs loudly. 

_It’s such a perfect sound that warms every part of you._

“Well with the lunch yesterday and the party and everything. Even just you coming here at all… and listening to my weird bullshit. I just… it was great. Thanks,” he says with his wonderfully crooked grin. 

“You are more than welcome.” You head out of Jay’s car; rustling through your bag to find your keys. Jay gets our and follows close behind before pausing just outside your driver's side door. 

“If you... want…. I mean, if… if you... Um... ever... need… advice on… schlock cinema, I guess… you, uh... you have my number,” Jay announces awkwardly as he folds his arms over his chest. 

“Should that need arise, yes. You will be the first person I call,” you smile. Your eyes drift slowly down to your shoes. 

Again, you find yourself with Jay, the man of your decade-long dreams- and staring straight at the goddamn ground. You snap your head up high and resolve to knock that the fuck off.

You take a deep breath and ready yourself to tell him something you should have told him years ago. The imaginary spirit of Will sits on your shoulder, prodding you on:

“You know back… back at the film fest,” you begin shakily. You exhale loudly and press on:

“I just want you to know that I was crazy about you from the moment we met. I was shy and nerdy back then... which honestly, I still am sometimes...” you smirk awkwardly.

“...but I spent years regretting being so timid around you. I wish I could have been brave enough to just tell you how handsome I thought you were then. 

"I mean, I’m aware that you’re _objectively_ _gorgeous_ now, but I’m sure lots of people tell you that."

Your cheeks burn red, but you don’t shy away from his gaze. This is probably the last time you will see him. No time like the present to get this off your chest.

“I honestly never thought I’d get the chance to say how I felt that night,“ you sigh. “But you gave me that chance this weekend. Even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances, I'm really grateful.”

Jay stands in front of you completely motionless. His face gives zero indication of how he feels about any of that information. If it weren’t for his blinking, you might have thought he was a wax statue of himself.

 _Hmmmm._

Well you’re not sure what kind of reaction you expected… 

But this one _is_ kinda cute; in its own charming, horrendously awkward way.

You lean forward, placing your hand over his crossed arms, and plant a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you.” 

Jay doesn’t so much wave goodbye as he stands mostly still and raises his hand in your general direction. 

You smile at him warmly before getting into your car and starting the engine. You drive to the end of the parking lot and pull into south-bound traffic; relieved that you were finally able to say your piece. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually one of my favorite chapters. I just love all the awkwardness!
> 
> How did you like it? Leave me a comment or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/).


	11. Monday, September 14th, 2020 10:30am - Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You try work from home, but you're distracted.

It’s not like you stole the hoodie. 

You just maybe forgot to tell Jay you were going to borrow it forever. That’s totally different. 

As soon as you hit the first stoplight on Water Street, you pull up the lapel of Jay’s jacket and inhale deeply. 

_God, it’s fucking amazing._

The smell of black coffee, maple syrup, and sporty deodorant permeate the black fabric. The well-worn sweater is impeccably soft against your skin. The incomparable scent of him lingers on like water droplets on a windo..

***HONK HONK***

“Fuck me!” you jump. The driver behind you continues to express his impatience. You punch the gas and proceed through the light. When the other driver passes by, he makes sure to convey his displeasure with a classy gesture. 

You smile and wave cheerfully at him. 

It’s going to take a lot more than some shirtless douchebag in a Chevy pickup to bring you down today. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You make it back to your apartment around noon and grab your laptop from your desk. You check your email just in case there’s something blowing up at the office. There’s a message from your boss Vanessa at 9:33am. 

[[[ Will told me about your headache. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate your commitment to coming into the office after lunch, but if you want to work from home today, it's fine. ]]]

_Wow. That’s really nice of her. She’s not usually the understanding type._

[[[ I still need the toothbrush review by 2pm. And there’s a couple of AITH posts on Reddit you should write up, but if you’re working from home, it shouldn’t be a problem. And marketing wants three more articles on Tom Holland. Hope you feel better soon! ]]]

_That's more like it._

At least you get to work from home.

You pull off Jay’s black hoodie and carefully hang it over the chair in your living room. The rest of your clothes are haphazardly ripped off and tossed into your hamper before you step into the shower. 

The warm water eases the tender muscles in your neck, bringing your thoughts immediately back to Jay. 

_How did you end up falling asleep in his lap?_

You try again to remember the previous evening, but after Mike pulled up William Shatner’s god-awful rendition of _Rocket Man_ on Jay’s computer, your memory is blank. You hope you didn’t do anything too shameful, but considering you probably weren’t going to see any of those people ever again, it wouldn’t really matter if you had. 

You scrub away the last remains of your fiendish hangover (along with a surprising amount of black cat hair) and wrap yourself in a thick towel. 

After microwaving a plate of leftovers and throwing on another over-sized Buzzfeed shirt, you head back to your desk to start the workday. Your cellphone rings a moment later. 

“Hey Will,” you greet your coworker warmly. 

“Don’t you ‘Hey Will’ me!” he snaps. “I’m the only one in this damn office, waiting for you to drag your little booze-soaked ass in here.”

“Oh! God, I’m sorry. Vanessa told me to work from home.”

“I am so unappreciated in my time,” he sighs. 

“What do you need? I can come in if you need help with something. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was waiting to hear about your weekend, you lush!” Will explains. “I love being married, don’t get me wrong. But I have two fur babies and a mortgage and if I’m not performing, I'm in bed by 8pm sharp! I just need to hear all of the sloppy details of your drunken soiree.”

“You are such a drama qu…”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare say it! That’s **our** word!” Will giggles. 

“Fine fine,” you grin and roll your eyes. “But nothing happened…”

You tell Will about the last twenty-seven hours- from the sweaty pants outside Jay’s front door to the stilted reaction to your confession. The conversations and the studio tour, the creepy cake and the _Tequila_ dance; all of it. 

“So I drank a little too much at the end there, but the rest was really fun. And again, **nothing** happened,” you finish. 

“HA!” Will roars. “Sweet Jesus, is that what you think?! Oh lord, that’s so adorable I want to buy it ice cream!”

“What? What do you mean?” you ask. “I’m probably not even going to see him again.”

Will laughs so hard you have to pull the phone away from your ear. 

“HAHAHAHA HA HA HA! Oh my god!” he whoops. _“'Never going to see him again’!_ HA HA! Oh, my stars and garters! You are really kidding yourself on that one, honey.”

You make an incredulous face at your screen and wait for Will’s laughter to subside. 

It takes a while. 

Asking him “Are you done?” just sends him tumbling over the edge again. 

“HA HA HA HA! Thank you for that. HA! Baby girl, you just made my whole week,” Will snorts a few seconds later. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Will hangs up the phone and you’re left alone in your quiet apartment, profoundly confused. You stare at your phone and wonder what the hell that was all about. Your home screen pops up with two missed notifications:

**_[ Jay 12:18pm ]_ **

**_> > You back yet?_ **

**_> > Just making sure you’re okay. _ **

You smile at the texts. It’s cute in a “concerned grandmother” kind-of-way. 

<< Yep. I’m home safe. 

Jay responds immediately. 

**_> > That’s good._ **

**_> > Sorry for the texts - my family always checks in after a road trip - force of habit._ **

<< No problem. I think it's sweet. 😊 

<< Sorry I didn't reply earlier. I jumped in the shower as soon as I got home.

You hold your phone waiting for Jay's response, but nothing comes. He must be busy.

_That, or he honestly just wanted to know you got home safe before disappearing from your life forever._

Also a possibility.

In any event, you have to churn out a ton of content before the day is over. You set your phone down next to your desk and map out your review for the latest model of Quip toothbrush. 

Your phone vibrates with another message from Jay:

**_> > That sounds nice. If you're still feeling sick, you should try anal_ **

"What the fuck?!" you yelp. You read the message again. 

**_> > Fucking autocorrect! Sorry! I meant you should try anal_ **

**_> > A NAP!! Oh my god! _ **

You cover your mouth and laughter sputters out from between your fingers.

**_> > I'm gonna go jump down a well now._ **

Your chittering laughter would put a junior high girl to shame. 

<< Well before you jump, you should know that is actually NOT the worst text message I've ever gotten.

**_> > How is that possible?_ **

<< I'm usually at the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. So this was a nice change of pace. Thanks. 😋

You set your phone back down and get back to the review. 

_Gotta focus._

Your screen lights up again, this time with the black and white headshot of a thin man with a long chin. It’s the chimney sweep guy from _Mary Poppins_. 

"The fuck?" you ask aloud.

A new photo pops up. This one is a trading card featuring a mustachioed man in a navy-colored football jersey. 

You send off a quick reply:

<< You okay over there, Jay?

Just as your message swooshes away, a third photo comes in.

It's the uncomfortable official portrait of Vice President Dick Cheney. _Yikes_. You wonder if the smile had to be Photoshopped in after the fact. 

Wait… Dick Cheney?

You scroll up to the second photo and read the card: _Dick Butkus._

When Jay sends a photo of Dick Dastardly, you're already halfway done with your reply.

<< Oh you're just the worst.

A photo of Dick Van Patten bursts into your screen.

**_> > Am I doing it right?_ **

<< I get it. 🙂 You can stop now.

**_> > These Dicks unsolicited enough for you?_ **

Your cheeks burn from smiling. You feel a tiny butterfly in your stomach dusting off her wings. 

The feeling is dampened by Jay's next picture of Richard Nixon.

**_> > I ran out of Dicks. _ **

You giggle softly before curling your feet up onto your chair and taking hold of your phone with both hands. You wait patiently for the next text. 

**_> > But 'Dick' is short for Richard. _ **

<< That's true. Plus Richard Nixon was kind of a dick. 

**_> > Precisely. Double Dick._ **

**_> > My humor is nuanced and layered._ **

<< You're such a dork. 🤓

<< I like it. 

**_> > I'm glad. _ **🙂

The small butterfly in your tummy has her goggles on. The flight plan has been approved. She’s preparing for takeoff. 

<< Oh my! Jay Bauman can use emojis? 😜 And here I thought you were too old for that. 

**_> > Yeah, it's hard to make them on this rotary phone I use, but I'm getting better at it._ ** 💃⭐🥑🏦

<< God, you're distracting.

**_> > In a bad way?_ **

_In the worst way_ , you sigh. _In the best, worst way._

You bite your lip hard and a gif pops up, showing a stereotypical magician with wiggly eyebrows and a spinning bow tie. Sparkles flash all over the animated image. 

**_> > Am I THIS distracting?_ **

<< I gotta work, damn it! Toothbrush review and Tom Hiddleston articles and Reddit crap. 

**_> > I thought it was Tom Holland?_ **

<< Oh shit! You’re right!

<< Well that's how distracted I am now! 

<< I almost wrote three articles on the wrong handsome, charismatic British actor named Tom that has a huge cult following and stars in more than five Marvel movies!

**_> > Sorry. _ **

**_> > Are you busy tonight?_ **

More butterflies join the fray, stretching their gossamer wings in your midsection. You bite your thumb and think through your response. 

<< Not sure yet. I might still be working because some guy keeps interrupting my super-important work with his endless parade of Dick pics. 

**_> > I'm all out of Dicks now!_ **

<< I doubt that very much.

 _Oh that might have been an overstep._ Is it obvious that you were making a reference to his… oh god, that’s embarrassing. _Cover!_

<< How about I text you when I'm free?

**_> > I'd like that._ **

<< Okay. It's gonna be a while, though.

 **_> > It's fine. I'm just going to sit here staring at the wall in complete silence until then. _ **😐

<< Sounds great! 😁 Ttyl.

You shake your head and set your phone back down. 

“What a weirdo,” you smile. “Stupid, sexy weirdo.” You swirl your fork into your leftover noodles and take a bite. 

They’re ice cold. A quick look down at your phone lets you know it’s been over forty minutes since Jay’s first text. 

_Huh._

Well, you know two things for sure: 

One - Your little crush isn't so little anymore.

Two - Even after ten years with next-to-no practice, these butterflies can still do a number on you.

You reach down to your stomach and feel the whole squadron practicing aerial maneuvers. Soaring, diving, and loop-de-looping all over your insides. 

"Welcome back, everyone” you announce to the room. “I think we're all screwed."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You wrap up your Quip toothbrush review fairly quickly, taking several awkward photos of yourself for the page. Next up: Ol' Tommy Holland.

A Google image search was supposed to jog your inspiration...

_It's not._

Sure, the guy is cute. Adorable, really. And talented, too. But he's just not getting the creative juices flowing today.

You close your eyes and type:

  * Ten things you didn't know Tom Holland…



_God, that's been done to death._

[Delete]

  * Tom's best… roles… in the..



_Shit._

[Delete]

 _Okay, need to get fan-girly._ What's so amazing about Spiderman?

You stare again into the dozen photos of Mr. Holland on your screen. Nothing. _Maybe something about him being shorter than his costars?_

You find his height listed as 5’8”. Huh. 

_That’s actually taller than Jay. Not that it matters. I mean, they’re both the perfect height for kissing._

Huh. 

Your fingers find their way back to your keys:

  * Top Ten Reasons Why Tom Holland is the Perfect Size for Kissing



_Yeah. That could work._ Let’s go with that. 

_How else is he like Jay?_

You pull up another window and type in Jay Bauman. Your tongue slides against your canine before you nibble your bottom lip.

Just gotta pretend he's Jay.

  * 7 Reasons Why Jay Ba... Tom Holland Makes Casual the New Sexy
  * Top 5 Reasons to Drop Everything and Look at These Photos of Tom Holland Snuggling Cats
  * Literally Just 15 Photos of Tom Holland in Great Jeans
  * Tom Holland's 8 Best Hair Days
  * Why Tom Holland Would Be Your Perfect Boyfriend
  * Create Your Favorite Ice Cream Sundae and We'll Tell You Your Ideal Date With Tom Holland 



You realize you could do this for days. As long as you keep daydreaming about Jay, you're convinced you can pound out thirsty Spiderman content till the end of time.

_Just pick three and move on._

The “Am I The Asshole” summaries from Reddit basically write themselves; just the same copy paste it always is. But it's free content, and you know that's just how your employer likes it.

Everything is complete and turned in by eight in the evening. The marketing department in California will break it all up and add it to the weekly release schedule. 

And you'll just do it all again tomorrow. 

You wonder if they could replace you with a trained monkey.

_Nah. They'd just program a bot. It's cheaper._

That's reassuring.

You fire off a text as soon as your articles are sent off to your boss.

<< Okay. I'm free now.

You try to press your luck and get a little cheeky:

<< Did you miss me?

You're tempted to punctuate that last question with a winking smiley face, but that's basically emoji porn.

 _"Slow down, girl,"_ comes Will's voice at the back of your mind. You send the message without the wink, hoping the question by itself is mildly flirty without giving away too much. 

You head to your kitchen to get working on dinner. The top half of your body is inside of the refrigerator when your cell phone buzzes.

_**> > I've actually been busy working on a Cobra Kai episode with Rich all afternoon. ** _

_Maybe playful banter isn't his forte._ A new text chimes in a bit moment later: 

**_> > He wants to do an old-school Star Trek thing with Mike._ **

**_> > I think it's just to piss Shatner off more._ **

<< Those two old men and their unending blood-feud. It's adorable.

 **_> > I know, right?_ ** 😁

**_> > Sorry I didn't call earlier._ **

_Oh that’s sweet._

<< It's okay. I wouldn't have been able to talk to you anyways.

**_> > I mean like during the 2010's._ **

Oh!

<< Right! Sorry. 

<< Actually, I still stand by my statement. 🙂

**_> > I think I missed out. Not knowing you this whole time, I mean._ **

<< Well you know me now 

**_> > Barely. _ **

**_> > You're a mystery. Wrapped inside an enigma. _ **

<< Some guys are into mystery, you know.

 **_> > Some guys are into clown porn._ ** 🤡

**_> > I feel a need to point out I'm NOT one of those guys. _ **

<< Sure you're not 😏

You plug your phone into the wall and get situated on the small couch in your living room. This might take a while. 

<< What do you want to know?

You spend the next three hours answering every question he poses. Where you went to school, how you feel about the _Halloween_ franchise, your opinion on the influence of the female gaze in _Crimson Peak,_ ect. You know, all of the most important things in life. 

It’s midnight before you try to bring the conversation to a close. 

<< I need to sleep, Jay.

**_> > Yeah. I’m usually in bed by now, too._ **

The thought of Jay in bed makes your whole body feel tingly. _What kind of sheets does he have? Egyptian linen? Maybe the t-shirt kind? Or maybe he’s bucking all the stereotypes and lounging around in black silk._ You never made it to the top floor of his house on the tour, so you’re not really sure. 

<< Can I text you tomorrow? I have a lot of questions that need answering.

**_> > Of course. you can text me whenever you want._ **

**_> > But what would you want to know?_ **

<< Lots of stuff. Like how your directing style has evolved, how the hell you’re single - bunch of stuff. 

You press send and immediately regret it. 

_Shit! Was that too ballsy?_

**_> > Directing style? I guess I’ve grown out of my obsession with Kevin Smith, which is good, but I’m still experimenting. _ **

**_> > And the last one is easy. I’m an awkward dweeb and I’m overly suspicious of new people. _ **

**_> > Next question._ **

He doesn’t seem too freaked out. That’s good.

Damnit, he just makes it hard to think. _You should probably stop before you say something stupid._

<< I gotta go to sleep, Jay!

<< Also, you’re not nearly as awkward as you think you are

You type out the next text before your brain has a chance to stop you. 

<< Plus, you're gorgeous - you should start acting like it 

_What did I just say?!?!_

It’s not flirting. You tell Will he’s gorgeous all the time. Totally the same thing.

_Riiiiiiiiight._

Your short battle with yourself ends as a new text pops onto your screen.

**_> > How should I do that?_ **

_Huh._ How _would_ a confident Jay act? 

You bite your lip, thinking of Jay leaning up against his deck railing in those perfect jeans. How his arms look crossed over his chest. How the lav mic pulls down his shirt just enough to get a glimpse of his chest hair. 

But it’s the bashful times that kill you; when he hides his smile against his shoulder or when his cheeks go pink during a laughing fit. And the dorky little dances he does when he’s happy. 

He’s pretty perfect just as he is.

<< Well you’re going to need some aviator glasses, a leather bracelet, and a few $200 v-necks. Might also want to start collecting mis-matched necklaces. 

<< Hemsworth, Styles, Momoa: Hot guys are always wearing like 20 necklaces 

**_> > Well you are the expert. _ **😎

<< I am the expert on attractive men, yes. 

<< Thank you for acknowledging that. Very big of you.

**_> > Well I can’t find an eyeroll emoji, so I’ll just let you know I rolled my eyes. _ **

**_> >_ ** 🙄 **_I found it!_ **

**_> > But I’ll let you sleep._ **

You curse your stupid body for needing rest.

<< Night, Jay. 

**_> > Goodnight. _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any time I see Jay on his phone in videos, I wonder which lucky people he's messaging. 
> 
> So I decided to make it the reader, cause why not?
> 
> What do you think? You still with me? Cause the first ten chapters are just the beginning! (Literally, it's less than a third of this beast.) Leave me a comment or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Hope you like it!


	12. Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get spooky.

Your heart beats out of your chest as you turn the corner. Heavy footsteps follow closely behind; slower than yours, but just as determined... and more numerous. The high ceilings of the abandoned house are full of spiderwebs, and the walls bend and undulate as you run past them.

The kitchen knife in your hand is still covered in sickening blueish-black blood. 

You hold back your panicked cries and bolt down the corridor to the closest window. 

Locked.

You feel your nails bend back as you try to tear through the old window sill. The steps grow closer.

_Maybe you can break it out?_

You move back to get a better angle and see that the windows are barred on the outside. 

Shit!

Something grabs you from behind and you slam your elbow back as hard as you can. An inhuman screech escapes as your throat prepare to disembowel whatever the fuck this new nightmare is. You spin around with your knife held high.

“Jay?!” you whisper-yell.

“Hey,” he groans; still doubled over and holding his rib cage tight. His leather jacket is torn at the shoulder. His lip is bloody and a fresh bruise is forming at his temple. Jay's long hair covers his eyes as he tries to breathe.

“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry!”

“‘S’okay,” he answers quietly. “You're stronger than you look.” A small smile cracks across his face and he winces from the pain. Pale green light pours into the room as the creature searches for his next meal. 

“You have to move, Jay. We gotta get out of here.”

“I know; it’s coming for us,” Jay warns as he tries to stand up straight. “But I think I found a way out.” 

He grabs your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “Follow me.”

You run down the next hallway into your high school gymnasium. A seven-foot tall psychopath in a leather face mask stands at center court pointing a chainsaw directly at you and Jay. He runs his mangled finger over his throat before pull-starting the engine to life. The screeching, blood-curdling sound echoes through the gym. 

“This way!” Jay pulls your arm hard and runs behind the bleachers. “Don't look back,” he shouts.

The chainsaw gets louder and louder until it feels like it’s in your head. You look over your shoulder and see each row of bleachers collapsing back in on themselves, crushing dozens of backpacks and pom poms along the way. You look up to see the killer running along the top of the stands. 

“He’s gaining on us!” you scream.

“Do you trust me?” Jay demands just before the end of the stairs. 

“Of course I do, but what d…”

Jay throws his arms around you and jumps off of the pier. The water is ice cold and makes your body seize up in an instant. Tendrils of lake weed tug at your ankles.

Jay covers your mouth and you surface slowly in the shallow water under the dock. Your foggy breath mixes with his as you watch a deformed figure stalk back and forth on the rickety wood above your head. 

Your body shakes uncontrollably; trapped in the freezing water awaiting your near-certain death. Jay’s arms wrap around and pull you closer.

Impossibly close.

You wrap both of your shivering legs around him, burying your face into his neck. He feels so solid and warm. You nuzzle your nose along the edge of his ear. 

“Jay,” you whisper. Fire pools in your stomach as your hips roll into him. “I don’t want to die without having kissed you,” you hum against his cheek. His hand at the back of your neck tangles in your hair. He pulls you away just enough to see you clearly.

Beams of twinkling moonlight cut across his face as his fathomless green eyes see right through you. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs across your lips. His arm moves lower on your back, pulling your shirt up before gliding slowly up your spine. 

“Show me,” you pant.

His mouth crashes into yours; ten years of hunger and yearning distilled into one perfect, searing kiss. Jay’s tongue delves past your lips as his fingernails scratch fire across your lower back; devouring you body and soul. You suck his plump lower lip into your mouth and sink your teeth into his flesh.

He growls possessively and shifts his weight into you against the dock post. His rigid cock grinding against your center sends waves of heat rippling down your thighs. 

"He could hear us," Jay breathes. 

"I don't care. I need you," you whimper. Jay bites down on your neck and sucks gently. "Please don't stop."

You cup his bearded face with both hands, feeling the sharp line of his jaw move beneath your fingertips.

He tugs your hair back, exposing the tender skin above your collarbone before dragging his tongue over your pulse point. His hands reach around your ass before he hikes you further out of the water.

Jay's sweltering-hot mouth leaves a trail of fire down the center of your torn blouse. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you move against him. 

He pulls you up higher to lave at your breasts and your knees press into the leather of his back seat. Jay snakes his hand up the bottom of your skirt while the other ventures up your bare thigh.

He pulls your white cotton panties away before his fingers delve between your folds. Jay’s palm slides against your clit and you purr sweetly against his clean-shaven face. He looks up and swallows nervously.

"You know I think you're swell, but are sure you wanna to do this?" Jay asks with concern. He pushes his foggy, horn-rim glasses back up his nose. "I'm not even sure we should be out this late," he blushes. 

"Don't be such a scaredy-cat!" you tease. You pull your itchy cheerleading top off with both hands and Jay's eyes go wide.

You stand up as best you can in the back of Jay's convertible and wiggle your pleated skirt and panties down to your ankles. Jay tries to remove his belt buckle with shaking hands. You tug off his baby-blue cardigan and throw it in the front seat. 

You flash Jay a devious smile before freeing his thick cock from his khaki pants. A drop off precum gathers at his tip, glistening in the light from the radio.

You lean forward, holding his hard dick in both hands before wrapping your lips around his head. Jay's back arches sharply as you swirl your tongue over his slit. You moan around his cock, savoring the incredible salty-sweet taste of him. 

A radio announcer cuts into the Chordettes' _Mr. Sandman_ with a special alert: 

**_"It has been established that persons who have recently died have been returning to life and committing acts of murder. A widespread investigation of funeral homes...”_ **

You turn off the ratio and straddle Jay's hips. 

“Now where were we?” you coo. 

You palm his cock and feel him burning with desire between your legs. His little cries are like music as you pump against his stiff member. You use your free hand to guide his palm over your breast. Jay moans desperately into your mouth as you slide his cock over your wet cunt. 

**"You're gonna die, bitch!"**

You whip your head to the passenger’s side of the car. A hulking, reanimated corpse with a machete laughs before lunging toward you.

"Wait."

You put a hand up and the zombie axe murderer escaped mental patient stops in his tracks.

"Where do I know that from?" you ask the monster. You let go of Jay's dick and sit down fully on his lap. Jay grunts his frustration and cranes his neck over the viewing-room couch to look at the terrifying, cock-blocking monster.

"Oh my god, are you Freddy Krueger!?" you ask excitedly. "Jay, I think it's Freddy!"

"No shit?? Wow!" Jay smiles.

"I'm a huge fan, Mr. Krueger. Jay is too," you look down to Jay wearing his red and green _Nightmare on Elm Street_ sweater.

Freddy stands next to the Nukie display, scissored hands hanging at his sides.

"Are… are you not scared?"

"Oh! Well, kind-of. Sorry, I'm just so star-struck right now! I'm a huge fan! Jay is, too."

Jay waves happily. "I am."

"It's honestly fantastic to meet you, sir. It's just that… _gosh…_ I just _really_ want to have sex with Jay. I mean, I'd be honored to be killed by you..."

"Me too. Absolutely," Jay chimes. "My all-time favorite horror villain, Mr. Krueger.”

Freddy hides his shy smile with his knife hand.

"That's really amazing coming from you two. Thanks."

"You're the best," Jay tells him from his spot on the plush red couch. "But if we could just get like _thirty_ more minutes, I'd really appreciate it." 

"Oh, yeah! Yeah. That's fine," Freddy waves dismissively. "I gotta go kill a bunch of high school kids tonight anyways. I'll get out of your hair." 

He melts into a pool of blood on the viewing room floor.

"Thanks, Freddy!"

"What a cool guy," Jay beams.

"And super nice, too," you add. "He did leave a big blood stain on your carpet, though." 

Jay smiles wide before reaching out and holding your cheek with one hand. He sighs and delicately runs his thumb over the corner of your mouth. His green eyes sparkle as he smiles up at you. 

"It's okay," he assures you. "I'll clean it after you wake up."

_What do you mea…._

The sound of your alarm rips you out of Jay's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwah ha ha! It was all just a dream! 
> 
> Though never explicitly stated, the monsters in this one start with the creature from IT, then Leatherface in the gym, Jason Voorhees on the dock, Michael Meyers next to the car and Freddy as himself.


	13. Tuesday, September 15th 2020 10:00am - At Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Texting at work.

The first part of your morning was spent in a haze as you recovered from your sexy nightmare. 

Dreaming about being a second away from sex with Jay only to be interrupted by Freddy Krueger was just too many levels of frustration and irony to dissect. At least the ache between your legs has finally subsided. 

You’re back in the office explaining to Will again how nothing happened with Jay. 

“Mmm hmmm,” he nods absent-mindedly. 

“Are you not listening or do you not believe me?”

“Bitch _both_ ,” he replies. He finally spins around in his work chair to face you. “Honey, it’s cute. Just so sweet and cute and dumb, but you gotta grow up.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you like him. To quote Miss Sally Fields, ‘You _really_ like him!’” Will responds with his hands clasped under his chin.

“Don’t try to use your gay magic to confuse me, Will. I **know** I like him.” 

“Well thankya Jesus!” Will says exasperated. 

“I just don’t know if he likes me back,” you confess with a shrug.

“Who cares?!” Will says with a flick of his wrist. “I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you this excited about a boy. Why not just have some fun with it? Keep it light, flirt with him, send him pictures of your... _boobies,_ I guess.. _._ or whatever girls do.”

“But what if he…”

“If he what? If he doesn’t like you back? His loss. You just met him - you got no mutual friends to fight over and not a whole lot to lose,” Will reasons. He swivels back to his screen and sighs. “The real bitch would be if he actually _loves_ you.”

“Uh… that sounds pretty nice to me,” you chuckle. 

“Really?" says Will over his shoulder. "So who’d quit their job and pack up to move? Who’d start all over in a new state with no friends or family? Who’d go back to square one in their career in some podunk town?”

“Oh,” you reply. “I hadn’t… I guess that would all be on me.” 

“I get it, he's cute as hell. But that's a whole heap of bullshit you don't need.

"All I’m saying is don’t go looking at this guy like he’s marriage material. Have some damn fun. Chat him up; stay up texting till all hours. Hell, fuck him if you get the chance. But just keep it casual.”

“Yeah. I can do that,” you try to assure yourself. “I can be light, flirty fun.”

You look back to Will, who's currently resting his chin on his hand like a highschool senior portrait. He bats his lashes at you twice before rolling his eyes.

“You’re giving me diabetes over here," he smirks.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You're back at your desk after lunch. Will treated you to a new Greek place a few blocks away and now your breath smells like concentrated garlic, onion and yogurt. 

You check your phone when you get back, but there's nothing from Jay.

Ashley texted though, wanting to know what happened in Milwaukee. You send her a quick recap and hope she doesn't ask too many questions. Thankfully, she's enthusiastically supportive without much judgement. She mostly just wants to talk more about her new paramore, Trevor. 

Vanessa stops by your workstation around three. 

“Hey thanks for getting all of that in yesterday. I read through some of your Tom Holland stuff. Super sexy.”

“Oh, uh… thanks. Yeah. He’s a dreamboat, for sure,” you reply awkwardly.

“The LA office reached out to me," Vanessa explains. "They said they really appreciated the Tom articles. Do you think you could put together another ten or so before we close out the week? 

“Honestly, I have a list of like twenty more I could write. Ten more shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well if you think you could write more, I know they would eat them up. Send me whatever you have by Friday."

“Sure. No problem,” you reply. 

Will watches Vanessa leave and then turns to you. 

“Hmmmm..." Will starts as he spins in his chair. He holds the tip of his aqua-blue pen to his lips contemplatively. "Tight little frame, adorable accent, wears the hell out of a pair of jeans. I just have no idea why you are so _especially_ talented at writing up Tom Holland fanfic.”

“It's not fanfic, you bitch; it’s work. And yes, Tom happens to check off a few of my favorite boxes. Is it so wrong to pine after a shorter, muscular man with a jawline so sharp it could cut glass?”

"Daaamn! Okay," Will smiles. 

You cell phone buzzes work a new notification 

"Speak of the sexy little devil!" Will gasps.

"It's probably just Ashley fawning over her new boytoy," you inform him.

"That girl is a damn wreck," Will sighs. "God, I love her."

You grab your phone off of the desk to see a new message from Jay. Your whole body jumps before you let out a girlish squeal.

"Will! It's him!"

"Light, flirty fun, girl. Just keep it light, flirty, and fun."

You nod your agreement and open the text. 

**_> > Hey. Are you free?_ **

<< Free enough. I'm wrapping up work at 5. What's up?

**_> > I wanted to get your opinion on something. _ **

<< Sure. I'm listening.👂

**_> > I wanted to see if you'd prefer my mom take down that photo of you. _ **

_Good god, this again?_

**_> > It's just that someone might find it and I don't want you to have to go through that._ **

<< I really don't mind, Jay. It's a nice picture of you. Just let her keep it up. 

**_> > Okay. I will._ **

Why couldn't this be a light, flirty, fun text from him? Is he _that_ paranoid to be seen with you? Why is he still bringing this up? 

<< Is there someone in particular you don't want seeing that photo? A girlfriend or potential girlfriend?

<< If it's getting in the way of your dating prospects, feel free to take it down.

You toss your phone onto your desk perhaps a little more harshly than you intended. 

Jay's text appears a few moments later. And despite your little tantrum, you grab your phone immediately.

**_> > No! No! It's not that!_ **

**_> > No girlfriend. I'm not even interested in anyone here. I promise._ **

And with that text, Jay is _slightly_ forgiven.

 **_> > I think it's a great picture._ ** 😊

 _Blushing smiley face?!_ Jay is now completely forgiven.

**_> > It's 4Chan guys I'm worried about. They used to hack the RLM Facebook profiles all the time. My mom's profile too. _ **

**_> > If they see you with me, they might start a subReddit dedicated to your feet or something._ **

<< I'm sorry, what?

**_> > It probably won't happen again, but yeah. Some RLM 'fans' are next-level pervert trolls. If you're worried about it, she can take the photo down._ **

<< So I finally get a picture with Jay Bauman, something I’ve waited a decade for, and now some Reddit pricks are gonna jerk off to the thought of smelling my socks?

**_> > Yeah. Maybe. I'm so sorry. _ **

<< Come on, Jay. It's very sweet that you're concerned for me. But it's not necessary.

**_> > Really? Why not?_ **

<< Because I post articles online for a living. My picture is right there at the bottom of everything I write. Posted like 5-10 times daily. 

<< Everyone that works here gets harassed over the internet. Creepy perverts send us messages & dick pictures. Even a half-eaten wedding cake one time. 

<< None of us really give much of a shit about it any more.

**_> > Oh! Really?_ **

**_> > God, that sucks. _ **😳

<< Eh. You get used to it. 

<< Will once got a headless Barbie doll sent to him.

**_> > Was it covered in semen?_ **

<< Oh yeah. 💯%

**_> > Lol. That's horrifying._ **

<< That’s my Wednesday. But the powers that be here are actually doing much better at filtering out that crap before it gets to us now. 

**_> > That’s good at least. _ **

<< Exactly. 

<< And it's a nice picture, I'm glad it can stay up. 😀

<< Maybe you could send it to me, too? Just so I have proof that meeting your heroes isn't always a disappointment. 

"You gonna just call it a day then, work wise?" Will smirks. He sips from a mug of tea as you try to process his question. 

"What? No! I'm gonna get stuff done. I'm just… yeah. I'll get everything in," you answer. Your next comment to Will fades out when you see another text.

The picture of you and Jay over his birthday cake pops up on your screen. You hold your phone in front of Will’s face and he swats your hand. 

“I can’t see that close up!” he snips. “Plus, you’re all jiggly with excitement. Hold still, damn it.”

Will examines the picture closely. 

“God, he really is just a damn snack,” Will sighs. “Oh and look! You’re in the picture, too! That’s fun.”

You snatch your phone away as Will giggles. 

“That’s going to be your wallpaper now, isn’t it?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No! … Maybe! ... Shut up.”

You immediately set it as your wallpaper. 

Another text chimes:

**_> > My mom keeps talking about how pretty you are._ **

_Well maybe you should listen to her, you daffy bastard!_

**_> > Sorry if it's incredibly "Norman Bates-ish" of me to tell you that. _ **

You bite your lip and decide to take advantage of the opening.

<< Well what do *you* think?

**_> > I think she's well meaning, but she can be a bit smothering sometimes._ **

<< Not that. 

<< I mean you just told me your mom thinks I'm pretty. What do YOU think?

**_> > About how you look?_ **

<< 🙄

<< Yes, Jay. 

You hit send and the message swooshes away. 

...

Nothing.

...

The dot dot dots flash as Jay writes his response.

...

Then nothing.

...

Then more dot dot dots.

...

Again, nothing. 

You search the room, making sure that no one important is watching you spend five damn minutes waiting for a reply.

…

**_> > Yes._ **

"Ha!' you yell aloud. Will and three other coworkers jump in their seats before looking to you.

"Sorry, everyone. Uh… I just got... some great test results back," you explain aloud. You type your next message in a flash.

<< 'Yes' what?"

**_> > Yes, I think you're pretty._ **

You throw both hands up in the air and grit your teeth you just won gold at the Olympics. 

"Fuck yes!!!" you growl. You walk down the row of desks next to yours and force every confused coworker to drop what they're doing and return your high-five. Cindi, Franny, and the two interns seem especially confused.

"Congrats on beating syphilis," Will claps.

"You're not pissing on my parade today, Mister Sister."

Will tries to keep back a smile and you look back down to your phone.

 **_> > But my mom is asking me all these questions because she thinks we're dating now. And I can't convince her otherwise._ **

<< Then just let her think that. I don't mind. Or tell her the truth.

**_> > What's the truth?_ **

<< That I'm a friend who came to visit you for your birthday. I think you can omit the black-out phone call part.

**_> > Fair point._ **

<< So you gonna tell her the truth, or do I have to buy a nice dress to meet her over Sunday dinner?

**_> > I'm not sure yet._ **

**_> > She's being really nice to me._ **

**_> > Even said she could wait a few years for more grandkids_**

<< Yikes.

**_> > I know, right? Christ. I don't even know if I ever want kids._ **

<< Me, either. I mean, they're cute. But they're also squishy little germ-factories that eat up all your free time and money.

**_> > Exactly. And they need their diapers changed for like 3 years, but they allow a part of you to live on after you die. So that's nice, I guess._ **

**_> > Yeah, the jury's still out on that one_**

<< Well if it gets your mom to calm down in the grandbabies talk, feel free use me however you want.

Curiosity gets the better of you and you push further:

<< What kind of questions is she asking?

**_> > Regular mom-stuff. What you do, where you're from, what your family is like. Etc._ **

<< Well I've been a secret agent for a few years now, I come from a land down under, and my family is a group of sentient robots.

**_> > I know. And that's what I keep telling her!_ **

**_> > But my family, we’re actually all wooden puppets that were brought to life by a German occultist._ **

<< Lol. Wow.

<< I'm not sure if we can even be friends now.

**_> > Two different worlds, I know._ **

<< Did you know Mark from _The Room_ was in _Retro Puppet Master?_

 **_> > Yes! Greg Sestero. Puppet Master 7 if I remember right. _ **🙂

**_> > Did you know it was directed by David DeCoteau and is packed to the gills with homoeroticism?_ **

<< I prefer my homoeroticism more thinly veiled, thank you. 

<< It's why I love your show so much. 😜

**_> > Thanks. That means a lot. _ **

**_> > Oh! Speaking of that, I wanted to let you know I’m heading out to film this afternoon. It will probably go really late._ **

Your smile evaporates.

<< So no texts?

 **_> > Probably not._ **

<< That sucks. 

**_> > I know. I'll miss talking to you._ **

You read the text again. Then one more time. You run your fingertip over the words.

You're tempted to kiss your phone screen, but there's people around. _Also, it's probably filthy._

You try to think of some way to keep the conversation going.

<< Well what are you watching tonight? Maybe I can watch it, too. 

<< Then it will kinda be like we watched it together.

 **_> > That sounds really good, actually._ ** 🙂

**_> > It's called After Last Season. It's supposed to be god awful._ **

**_> > Enjoy!_ **

<< Can we discuss it after?

**_> > If watching it doesn’t kill me, then yes. I’d like that very much. I'd appreciate your perspective._ **

**_> > Talk to you later._ **

<< K. Bye. 

By the time your home screen pops back on, you see it’s 4:48pm. 

**_Three hours_ ** _gone._

How in the HELL does he do that?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else excited to see the real reason he wanted to take your photo down? What a sweet guy.


	14. Wednesday, September 16th, 2020 - With Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn some things.

_After Last Season_ was so god-awful it hurt your eyes. Not funny bad, **boring** bad. 

The acting was terrible, the script was incomprehensible, the sets (if you could even call them that) were _astoundingly_ unpleasant. Every aspect of it was irredeemably bad.

You wondered if Jay could even make it through this mess. 

On the bright side, the long scenes of complete silence in the film helped you get a ton of work done. 

You spent a little time daydreaming about Jay and managed to get six more Tom Holland articles finished. Then you decided to brainstorm a few more Jay-inspired pieces. 

  * Twenty of the Best Flannel PJs on Amazon Right Now
  * 10 Sure-Fire Hangover Cures
  * Stop What You're a Doing and Buy These Vintage Horror T-Shirts
  * Just 18 Photos of Incredibly Sexy Men and their Cats
  * These 16 Guys with Crooked Smiles Prove Perfection is Overrated
  * 20 of the Best Horror Movie Sex Scenes to Get You in The (Spooky) Mood 



You emailed them off to Vanessa around ten last night.

It’s now twelve hours later and your boss is walking her way to your desk at the Buzzfeed office.

"Hey. I got your proposals last night. Everything looks really great," Vanessa informs you.

"Thanks. If you want me to go ahead, I think I could get them all done before Friday.” 

"That would be amazing, but I think the Tom Holland stuff is more important. He's going to be in the LA office shooting on Friday."

"I actually have six more articles done for him right now. I'm game to write more if you need me to."

"Wow! That's… wow. Six is great. Send them over,” Vanessa replies. 

She turns to head back to her office.

“Jesus, you need to get laid,” Will snickers.

You spin in your chair to face him. 

“Though I’d like to pretend to be offended by that... You are _absolutely_ right," you sigh.

"Any luck with that Pocket Rocket you're dating?"

"Were not dating. And also, no. I haven't even heard from him since yesterday."

"Did he say he would text you?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Who texted first last time you talked?" 

You grab your phone and scan through your texts.

"Oh. He did. Shit. Both days," you confess.

"Well then take some damn initiative. Because your sexual frustration is driving up your productivity and making the rest of us look like a bunch of jackasses."

"That's beautiful. Thank you for your concern, Will."

"Also, cause I love you and want to see you happy or whatever."

You take a deep breath and stare at your phone. 

_Easy-Peasy. Just fire off a text. Totally normal thing to do. Just gotta think of an opening line._

<< Hey.

_Nailed it._

**_> > Hey._ ** 🙂

<< Did you actually make it through After Last Season? 

**_> > Barely. And it took every fiber of my being to not drink myself to death trying to get through it._ **

**_> > It would have been much better if you were there._ **

Your mind swims with possibilities of what you could do with Jay to make the experience more pleasurable. You see yourself crawling over the viewing room couch toward him. Kissing his neck while he tried to focus. 

And what would he do to keep you entertained during all of the movie's most boring scenes? You can almost feel his scalp under your fingernails as his tongue licks down your…

Your whole body shivers you back to your senses.

<< That's nice of you to say. ☺️

**_> > Did you watch it? _ **

<< I did. Kinda. I wound up working through most of it. 

**_> > I really wanted to talk about the movie with you, but I'm not sure if there's even enough of a movie to talk about._ **

<< You don't think we could talk about the cardboard MRI machine that was clearly filmed in a little girl’s bedroom?

**_> > Oh my god, that was awful._ **

**_> > Did you enjoy the CGI?_ **

<< You mean the two ovals they slapped together and called a bird? Or the bubble-headed serial killer with the ice cream cone knife?

<< Because the answer to both is a RESOUNDING yes. 😄

 **_> > I think my favorite was the girl asking if the "letter" she was supposed to focus on was "from the alphabet." _**🤔

<< You really can't fake that level of incompetence.

**_> > Lol. I know, right?_ **

<< If you want a real treat, go read the IMBD reviews. 

<< In 2009, the director made HUNDREDS of fake accounts to try and bring up the rating.

**_> > No shit? That's amazing. I should check those out._ **

**_> > Might find something funny enough to keep this episode viable._ **

**_> > Otherwise, it'll get the axe._ **

<< I hope it works out for you.

You nibble the tip of your thumb before deciding to try a ‘light, flirty fun’ invitation for Jay to come visit. 

<< You know, speaking of pretentious hacks, there's a ton of great independent theaters in Chicago. I could take you around if you'd ever be interested in seeing them. 😊

**_> > I've been to Chicago before. Lots of times._ **

_Hhhhmmm…_

You try to rephrase your invite:

<< I mean like to visit. I'm a pretty good tour guide.

**_> > That's cool. How long have you lived there?_ **

"Good god, is there something wrong with him?" 

You jump in your chair and glare at Will.

"What are you talking about?"

"Those were just two big ol' invitations straight to your panties and he sends that response?" 

"Don't read my texts, Will!"

"Oh please, you were going to show them to me in two minutes anyways."

You stare back down at your screen and Jay's apparent inability to get the hint.

"Shit. Yeah. I probably was. But still. Principle of the thing," you sigh. "Am I not doing it right? I know it's been a while since I flirted with a guy, but…"

"Wait!" Will yelps. "Didn't you say he's only been this scrumptious for a few years?" 

"I would _never_ say that, actually. But sure. He's always been cute to me, but the drop-dead gorgeous Jay has only been around for a few years."

"Ohhhhhh! That makes so much more sense now," Will exclaims.

"You're **killing** me here," you sigh. "What makes sense?"

"Well if you go from a cub to a bear without going through an otter stage, you're bound to be a little shy."

You stare back at him without blinking.

"It’s lovely that you think I know what that means. But I’m struggling here."

Will rolls his eyes and sits down at his desk. He waves you over and logs into his Facebook.

After his home page loads, Will scrolls down to his husband's name and David's profile pops up. 

Will's husband is ruggedly handsome with curly, jet-black hair and icey blue eyes. The few gray hairs in his short beard just serve to make him more dashing. His current profile picture is him completing his most recent triathlon.

"You know my David?" Will asks sweetly.

"Yes, of course."

He makes several more clicks and brings up a grainy photo.

"So then you shouldn't have any problems picking him out of this high school marching band photo, right?"

"Wait, what? _Marching band?"_

"All four years plus three more in college," Will proudly announces.

You take a closer look at the four uniformed band members in the photo. A large boy with acne and a tuba, a stringy black kid on the drums, a red-head girl with a flute, and… an Asian girl with a xylophone.

"Holy shit!" you blurt out before covering your mouth.

"Yep!"

Will clicks on another photo. This time, David's bright blue eyes are clearly visible under his tall marching hat.

"See, I have always been this beautiful," Will explains. The only awkward phase I had was an asymmetrical bob cut back in college - don't ask.

"But my one and only here; different story. David went from this fluffy, adorable band geek to the muscle-bound hunk we all know and love in about a year. 

"Oh wow…"

"Exactly. So in gay terms, David was a cub and he turned to a bear… or ‘bull’ or ‘daddy’ depending on your definition... basically _overnight_. Most gay men spend a few years growing up, getting taller, losing baby fat, dating around, gaining confidence; that kind of thing. 

"When I met David, he was drop-dead gorgeous, but he told me he'd never even kissed anyone. I thought he meant that he'd just never kissed another _man_ , but he meant ANYONE... EVER."

"Jay's had girlfriends, though."

"Well hooray for Jay. Maybe you won't have to draw out a diagram of your lady bits for him."

"Gross,"

"Bitch, you're telling me," Will shivers. 

"What I'm saying is that there's a chance he has no idea how to flirt OR even pick up on it. 

"David was fucking hopeless for the first year. I literally had to stand outside his window wearing a trench coat, playing that damn Peter Gabriel song out of an old boombox before he believed I actually liked hi…"

"Oh my god! That's so sweet," you interrupt; tears welling up at the corners of your eyes.

"I know! It was amazing. But I'm talking," Will replies. "David just _could not_ understand subtle flirting. Luckily, I was forward as all hell so it worked out," Will smiles.

"Just don't take it personally if this Jay guy isn't the most debonair man on the planet."

You look down at the texts from Jay and the wheels in your head start to slowly turn.

"Huh. Okay," you murmur mostly to yourself.

You re-read Jay's last few texts and wiggle your nose as you think out your response.

**_> > I've been to Chicago before. Lots of times._ **

<< I mean like to visit. I'm a pretty good tour guide.

**_> > That's cool. How long have you lived there?_ **

Hmmm… 

“Let’s give this a try,” you mumble as you type up a new message:

<< I've been here a few years now. 

<< I'd like you to come visit me sometime. ☺️ Even if it's just for the day, I'd love to see you again.

"Better," Will praises your text from over your shoulder. "I like that. Honest, to the point. Still light, flirty fun."

You both wait patiently for Jay's reply.

Will's fingers press into your arm as the dot dot dot appears on your screen.

You both gasp when the dots stop.

Then the new message bubble bloops onto your screen:

 **_> > Absolutely. I'd really like that._ ** 🙂 

**_> > This week and next week are super busy, but I think I can swing next weekend. _ **

**_> > That would be amazing._ **

"Yes!!!" you yell in unison. Will claps excitedly.

Everyone on the floor turns to look at the two of you. Will waves before grabbing your hand and raising it up above your head like a boxing champion.

"Looks like we BOTH beat syphilis, ya'll!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time you're about to head home for the day, you've got another four Jay-inspired Tom Holland articles wrapped up for an even ten. You're especially proud of the gifs you made for the "20 Reasons Why Tom Holland is The Best Spiderman" piece. 

You finished another eight AITA summary posts and added those to the queue. You were half way through the rest of the Jay articles, scrounging around Instagram for more photos of cute guys with their cats, when you decided to call it a day. 

You fire off another set of article ideas to Vanessa before packing up your computer.

  * 28 Vintage Horror Graphic Tees You Need Right Now
  * 20 of the Best Beards from 2020 (So Far)
  * Pick a Sexy Lumberjack and We'll Guess Your Zodiac Sign
  * 15 of the Best Kitchen Gadgets for Making Morning After Breakfasts
  * 10 Reasons Why Converse All-Stars Are The World's Perfect Shoe
  * Pick a Favorite Disney Villain and We'll Recommend a 80s New Wave Classic



Jay's texts have been consistent during work, but you're trying to play it cool. Sometimes you make it a whole minute before reading his texts. No more three-hour blocks of missing time. It's going well so far; you're back to acting like a mostly functional adult. At work, at least. 

On your drive back home, you pass a familiar record shop and an idea strikes. You park outside, stopping to read all of the old band fliers that are taped up on the windowed storefront.

A friendly bell chimes as you walk through the door. You head toward the counter and find a wire-thin bearded man with a Talking Heads T-shirt and Buddy Holly glasses. 

"You looking for anything in particular?" He asks kindly. 

"Yes. Actually. I'm looking for a birthday present. I would like your best Oingo Boingo album on vinyl, please."

"Nice choice! We actually have a near-mint signed copy of _Dead Man's Party_ for $275."

Your eyes go wide, but you recover quickly. 

"I would like your best Oingo Boingo album under $50, please."

The shopkeep chuckles lightly. "How about a limited edition version on orange vinyl? It's also near mint, but I had to open it to make sure the album wasn't warped. That one is $40. No Danny Elfman autograph, but it looks awesome and plays like a dream."

"Let's go with that one," you smile. 


	15. Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's gotta take the reigns.

Jay pulls the sheets away from your face first thing in the morning. He stands at your bedside between you and the window, making sure he does NOT block the sun from your eyes. 

"Babe! You can't sleep in! Today's the day and we gotta hit the road!"

“What? Wait? What do you mean?” you groan. 

“The world’s biggest Spirit Halloween in Madison; it opens today!” 

"It's still going to be open an hour," you remind him as you try to hide back under the covers. You curl into a ball and hope he just lets you sleep.

"But the… the flier… uh, coupon... wait…" Jay tries as he digs through the pockets of his cargo shorts. He finds a bright orange piece of paper and holds it up proudly.

"The coupon is only good on opening day until noon. Plus there’s raffle!"

He crawls over you on the bed, straddling your blanketed legs with his knees. 

"Fuck, there's a raffle now?" you groan into the blankets.

"It's for a life-size Grim Reaper, babe!” 

The sunlight streaming in through the window swells brighter as he smiles wide. It gives him a radiance that warms you to your core.

He sits up high and grabs hold of both your hips. He pulls your ass off of the bed and swings your pelvis to meet his. 

"You of all people know how flammable Grim Reapers are, Jay! What if we get in a fender-bender and the reapers explode?! Plus, we already have two of them," you point out with a yawn.

"Not fully animatronic, though! We just have the one for the porch and the inflatable one."

"Damn it, Jay!" you yell as you kick your covers off your chest. The blanket flops over his bent legs, concealing him from the waist down. A flare of lurid imagery flashes in your mind, and you swallow the vision with a gulp. You look up at him as he towers above you on the mattress. "That's a really good point!" 

Jay's eyes light up like a jack-o'-lantern on Halloween night. 

"Yessss!" he cheers before he flops down on top of you. Jay's fuzzy beard tickles your cheek as he peppers every exposed inch of your face with kisses. 

Your arms are pinned at your sides, so there's no hope of fighting him off; not that you'd ever really try. 

"Okay! God! Pbbbt! That tickles! Ahhh! I get it! Stop!!" you giggle.

"So we can go now? Like now? What about now?" Jay's an excited puppy on your lap; his hips wiggling back and forth as he tries to annoy you enough to get you out of bed. He sits back on his heels and lets you free your arms from the covers.

“Yes. We can go… just let me… oh my.”

The thought disappears as your hands find their way onto Jay’s bare knees. "Hmmmm…" Your fingers delve underneath the legs of his shorts and roam up onto the tops of his thighs. You look up into his shining green eyes as your thumbs knead the strong muscle of his legs. 

"Is this what it feels like when I’m on top?" 

Jay's face goes pink and he tries to hide his wide smile with his right hand. The sunlight of the room dims. 

"Uhh... I'm not sure about that," he deflects.

You run your palms up his thighs until your fingers reach his pelvis, then you smooth them over the tented fabric near his crotch and back down the insides of both legs. The thick muscles flex taut as he kneels above you.

"I think I understand why you like me on top so much," you smile. "I feel pretty fucking powerful right now." You continue to massage his thighs as he perches on top of your pelvis.

"Is that what you think, huh?" Jay teases. 

Your face feels thirty degrees hotter. You have to look away from him for a moment to collect yourself. 

"Well I gotta check something first," you inform him before grabbing onto his hips roughly. You thrust up into him three three times, panting and letting out exaggerated moans with each thrust. Truly, a display worthy of an adult film award for most camp performance.

"Oh yeah!" you laugh as you smack your pelvis into him from below. "You like it like that, Jay?!"

"First off," Jay giggles," _of course_ I like that. Secondly, you being on top doesn’t make me feel powerful. It’s… I don’t know… "

"Is it because you're lazy and you just want me to do all the work?" you ask with a growing smile.

Jay’s head cocks slightly and he stares up at the ceiling in contemplation. He scratches his bearded chin for a moment more. 

"Yes." 

You grab a pillow and throw it at his face.

"Ouchie!" Jay whines as he rubs his nose on the back of his hand. He looks down at you wrapped up in the covers between his legs and wets his lips. 

"Here," he says before climbing off of your lap. "I'll show you." 

He rolls himself to the side to lay flat on his back. Jay looks at you expectantly and taps both of his thighs twice.

"Well get on top, babe."

"Uuughh! Fiiiiine!" you sigh with an obvious grin.

You get up on your knees in bed, letting him see a glimpse of your black panties underneath his old Feeding Frenzy t-shit, and climb on top of him. You’re sure you look a frightful morning mess. 

When your center meets his, it becomes clear that Jay did, in fact, like what you were doing earlier.

"Well this is a nice surprise in the morning," you praise.

"Focus up, babe!" he reprimands lightly. 

You throw him a pout and settle back down on his pelvis; trying your best not to be distracted by his hardening erection.

"So, when I'm down here, I don't actually feel powerful at all," Jay explains as his hands find their way to your knees. "In fact, I feel completely powerless most of the time."

"Really?" you ask with genuine interest. "So it **_is_** just you being lazy and wanting me to do all the work?"

Jay's laughter shakes both of you. He conceals his crooked smile with both hands as thick cloud cover dims the sunlight from the window. You reach down to gently pull his hands away and the gray clouds outside evaporate. 

"Please never hide your smile from me, Jay. You're so fucking adorable, it's like you’re _stealing_ from me when you hide yourself like that."

"Okay. Okay. I'll keep trying," he promises as he kisses your knuckles. "But what I was about to say was even though I don't feel powerful, you do. And that's why I like this so much."

"I'm supposed to feel powerful right now?" you laugh dismissively.

"Oh! Sorry, I thought you always did," Jay questions. "When you're on top of me, you set the pace. Fast and hard or slow and deep; you fuck me exactly how you want to. I don’t have to worry about doing things right or anything. I just get to watch you completely own me"

"Well that is nice, yeah. But I'm usually too busy being nervous about how I look from that angle," you confess.

"Why? You're a fucking goddess." His fingers sink into the meat of your upper thighs. You pull the collar of your baggy nightshirt over your mouth to hide your blushing. 

Jay tugs the black fabric down and gives you a stern look.

"When you're up here, you're the most awesome, commanding woman I've ever seen. You’re like a fucking Amazon woman... but without the Borat accent,” he laughs. 

You smack him on the chest and he gets back to his thought:

"I'm serious. The way your hips roll when you're doing those slow, short strokes on me, making me wait. The way your skin glows when you sweat... Oh! The perfect little dip at your waist here…" Jay relays as his hands coast up your sides. "And don't even get me started on your breasts."

"You… you can get started on my breasts," you smirk. 

"Well I can't see them right now, but I can do my best to describe them from memory if you'd like."

"Are you saying you want me to take my shirt off?" you purr as you grind your hips into him. 

Jay’s head falls back and he groans deeply.

"Goddamn…. uh, yeah. You can do that. But you're in charge here; it's your choi…."

Jay's voice fails him as you pull his oversized shirt up over your head and toss it into the corner. The large, golden eagle on the top of your red leather corset reflects a beam of light onto the headboard. 

He sighs blissfully and massages your thighs with both hands.

"Absolute fucking goddess," he breathes. 

Jay’s eyes roam over your body, smiling in awe at every curve of your form. His swelling cock strains against the fabric of his shorts and your thin leather skirt. Jay’s teeth nip into his bottom lip as his gaze settles on your breasts. 

"So I'm in charge up here, huh?" you ask with a mischievous smile. Your long, perfectly curled hair cascades in shining rivulets over your shoulders.

"I'm at your mercy," Jay replies playfully. 

"Okay then, good.” You set your fists on your hips with a coy smile. “Can you take off your shirt?”

“I’d think a powerful woman such as yourself would just order me to take it off,” he counters. Warmth rushes to your center and you feel the weight of your golden diadem against your forehead. 

“Take your fucking shirt off right now,” you instruct. Jay’s mustache curls up at the ends as he smiles wide. 

Jay finagles his shirt up from his waist and over his head, leaving it bunched up in the sheets by the headboard. You watch the muscles of his stomach and chest flex as he gets himself situated on the pillows. He puts both hands behind his head, tightening his biceps beautifully in the soft light of the bedroom. 

“You look pretty happy down there,” you point out. 

“Of course I’m happy. I have a strong, sexy woman riding my lap. What’s not to be happy about?” he chuckles. 

You place your hands high up on his hairy chest and lean in close to his ear to whisper: “You might be late to the raffle.”

"Who cares?" he replies simply. 

His nose runs along your cheek until his lips meet yours. You open yourself to him and his tongue plunges into your mouth. You return his kiss; sucking on his bottom lip and running your thumb down the corners of his mustache. His hands dig into your thighs as he rocks into you from below. 

You pull away, sitting upright on Jay’s lap and wrapping your fingers around his waistband like a saddle. Two solid, glimmering gauntlets appear on your forearms. Your hips move achingly slow against his hard cock.

“You are going to do everything I say. Do you understand that?” You feel his body shiver between your thighs. You grab the shining lasso at your hip and run it down the center of his chest. “Or I’ll use the rope.”

“Completely understood," he smiles. "Do you want me to call you 'ma'am' or 'mistress'?" he giggles.

"I want you to shut your pretty mouth and do as you're told."

Jay inhales sharply. He tries to dampen his boyish grin and falls miserably. He finally nods.

"You woke me up early on a Saturday, Jay. Just for a little sale at Spirit Halloween." you pout. "You're gonna have to pay for that."

Jay thrusts up against you and you reach down to still his hips. "Nuh uh uhh. Not that way." 

He looks up at you with a perplexed brow.

"You've been running your mouth all morning," you tease. "I think I could use that quick tongue of yours somewhere else."

Jay's cock swells between your legs. He wets his pink lips before beckoning you forward with his tongue.

"That's a good boy," you praise. You crawl up his body on your armored, thigh-high boots and hook your legs around his shoulders. You take hold of the head board with one hand and peer down at his face between your legs.

"You might like waiting, but I don't," you warn him.

Jay immediately wraps his arms around your thighs and licks you from cunt to clit. He delves his tongue inside as far as he can, pulling himself up with your legs to worship you properly.

"Such a good boy," you whimper as you thread your fingers through the hair at his forehead. 

"Your mouth belongs to me," you growl. "Show me how much you love eating pussy."

Jay nods his head and drinks deeply at your wet cunt. Your toes curl when he flicks his nose against your clit; fucking your pussy with his tongue.

"Do you want me to cum in your mouth?" you ask breathlessly. 

Jay doesn't try to answer. Instead, he sucks your clit between his lips and runs his teeth against your swollen bud. Your entire body shudders, but Jay holds you tight against his open mouth.

"Oh my god, that feels so fucking good."

Jay's tongue stills as he giggles beneath you. Your grip tightens at his hairline. Your eyebrow perks up of its own accord as you peer down at him.

"I didn't tell you to stop," you warn. 

His green eyes twinkle before he nods his understanding. His right hand moves under your ass and he plunges two thick fingers into your dripping pussy.

"God damn!" you moan. Your back arches sharply and you have to hold on to the headboard with both hands. You thrust against his mouth as your knees thighs start to quiver. "That feels so good."

"Don't you fucking stop!" you scream. Jay's fingers dig possessively into your legs as he laps hungrily at your clit.

"Fuck! Fuck, I'm so close," you curse. Jay increases his speed even more, licking and sucking your clit like a man starved. Your body seizes up; every muscle pulling painfully taught. The headboard shatters under your crushing grip.

"Oh my god, I'm going to cum! Don't fucking stoooo…"

Your alarm screams you awake.

"MOTHER FUCKER!!!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I put a Wonder Woman sex dream in my romantic-comedy novel. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I hope everyone remembered the RLM inside joke about Grim Reapers being flammable, or I probably lost some folks there.
> 
> Whataya think? Leave me a comment or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/)! There's plenty more to come!


	16. Thursday, September 17th 2020 8:00am - Your Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun texting comes to an awkward end.

You throw every pillow off of your bed before screaming your frustration into the mattress. Your whole body feels like one giant, cramped muscle. 

_Why the_ **_fuck_ ** _won't the universe just let me_ **_get off_** _!!!_

You grab your phone to stop the alarm and a new text pops up. Your sleepy eyes struggle to focus.

 **_> > Good morning_ ** 🙂

_OH MY GOD!!!_

You fumble around your bed until you find a pillow near your feet. You bundle it into a ball and squeal into it, kicking your legs so hard that all of your blankets fall off of the mattress.

You wonder if he's still in bed now. You'd give anything to see him. He's probably laying there shirtless with one arm behind his head; his sheets just barely covering his morning ere…

Oh! You haven't responded yet.

<< What a wonderful start to my day.

<< Good morning to you, too. 🙂

**_> > I had a dream about you. _ **

Wait? _What?_ Did he have the same dream? No. That's impossible. _Unless…_

<< Really now? 😏 What happened?

 **_> > Yeah. We went ghost hunting _ ** 👻 **_with Mike._ **

**_> > Well... we went along to laugh at him as he "hunted ghosts."_ **

"Double damn!" you groan in frustration. 

_Well it's not the sexiest idea, but at least you're in his dreams._ Riding his face dressed like Wonder Woman sounds much more enjoyable than ghost hunting, but that might just be your perspective. 

<< That sounds really fun. 

<< You should do that in real life! I think that'd make a great RLM episode. 

**_> > _ ** 🤔 **_That's actually a really fun idea._ **

**_> > I'll pitch that to Mike today._ **

<< Lol. Okay. 

**_> > I'm serious. It could be a fun bit. And we haven't filmed outside the studio in forever. _ **

**_> > It'd be fun._ **

<< Wow. Well, that's great. It's really your own idea, but I'm happy I could help.

**_> > I gotta get in the shower now._ **

Your mind immediately floods with images of Jay in the shower. Him lathering up some amazing-smelling soap over his chest hair, sudsy water cascading down his thighs.

You can almost feel his wet, soapy beard under your fingernails. Your hands desperately gripping on to his slippery shoulders as he pressed you into the title.

 _God, Will was right -_ You really need to get laid. 

But your early bird texting and sex fantasies have eaten up most of your morning, so you'll have to settle for a cool shower and ice coffee instead.

You pull on Jay's hoodie and breathe in the heavenly scent of him. The combination of his laundry detergent, deodorant, and coffee is better than any cologne ever could be. And under all of it is the unmistakable warm scent that is just so perfectly _him._

You get to work a few minutes early today. Vanessa is at your desk before you even sit down.

"You are on an absolute roll lately," she praises.

"Oh. Uh, thanks," you reply quickly as you pull your laptop out of your bag. "What do you mean?"

"I sent everything on to the LA office and they love it. I'm not sure what's gotten into you lately, but it's really impressing the West Coast teams."

"That's great," you reply half-heartedly. You're not really sure who's on the West Coast. Just a nebulous idea of important people. The kind of fancy folks that can afford second bedrooms in their apartments. "Glad I could help."

"Have you ever thought about transferring?"

"To LA? Not really, no," you answer with a chuckle.

"You should! There's a senior content creator position open right now and I think you'd be great."

"Wow. Yeah. I'll think about that," you reply in a daze.

"I'm looking forward to your _Best Beards of 2020_ list. But if Oscar Isaac isn't on there, I will come here and flip your desk over," she smiles. 

You're not entirely sure how to react to a friendly Vanessa, but you have to admit: Poe Dameron **does** wear the hell out of a beard.

"I'll be sure to add him to the list."

As Vanessa walks back to her office, you plug your laptop into your docking station and start where you left off: searching for sexy men with their cats. One devilishly handsome man with a black cat reminds you of Jay and Regan.

You fire off a text:

<< Thinking of you at work. 🙂 

<< How's things?

**_> > Okay. _ **

You wait a minute for a little elaboration, but it looks like that's that. 

<< Just 'okay'? Is something wrong? 

**_> > It's stupid. I just can't find my hoodie. _ **

_Damn_. A hole opens up in the pit of your stomach. Do you lie to him? Or maybe just conveniently forget to tell Jay you wore it home?

You cringe in your chair before the next text comes in.

**_> > I must have forgotten it at SafeHouse, but they said they don't have it. _ **

**_> > Sorry. It's a dumb thing to be upset about._ **

**_> > It's just my favorite._ **

"Ugggggh," you sigh.

_Gonna have to give it back eventually._

You decide to have a bit of fun with it and take a cute selfie wearing Jay's hoodie. You check the photo: your lips are pouty, but not overly duck-like. Complexion looks good, too. You take two more just for safety, but wind up liking the first one best.

"You know, it's been a while since I was in the market, but I think you're supposed to wear less clothing if you're sexting," Will says as he takes his seat at the workstation to your left. "Oh my god, do they even call it 'sexting' anymore or am I just showing my age?!"

"Morning, beautiful," you greet him. "I'm just showing Jay the jacket I accidentally stole from him."

"Oh what a sexy little spiders web you're weaving!"

"Thank you for those kind words," you smirk.

You get back to your phone and type your reply to Jay:

<< You lost it at the SafeHouse? That's so weird! 

You attach the photo and add a message:

<< Because I stole **this** hoodie off of some handsome drunk guy at that very same bar!

**_> > Wait!? Goddamn it. You have it?! I've been looking fucking everywhere!_ **

<< Sorry. 😰 I think you lent it to me that night. 

<< I didn't realize I was still wearing it until I got home. 

_Okay… that's not entirely the truth._ But you can't exactly go confessing that you were sniffing the damn thing the whole way back to Chicago.

<< I can send it back to you today if you'd like. There's a FedEx downstairs.

 **_> > No. That's fine. If you like it, you can keep it. _ **🙂

<< But it's your favorite. 😔

**_> > It looks way better on you. _ **

<< Because you think I'm pretty? 😘

>> **_Lol._ ** 😄 **_Yes. Because I think you're pretty._ **

Your ear-to-ear smile could be seen from space. You chew your bottom lip and propose a compromise:

<< How about I hold on to it until you come to visit me? 

**_> > Deal. _ **😊

<< I gotta get to work now. But I was thinking it might be fun to watch a movie together tonight. 

**_> > Like over the phone?_ **

<< I'd love to hear you talk more about _Miami Connection_ and it's been a while since I've seen it.

**_> > Nah. I think we should watch that one together. _ **

**_> > In the same room, I mean. _ **

**_> > How about Hard Ticket to Hawaii? _ **🙎🏼‍♀️🙎🏼‍♀️🏝️💎🐍🛩️

<< A classic. 😉 Sounds great. 

<< I'll text you when I’m ready. Maybe 7?

**_> > Sounds good. _ **

You set your phone down near your keyboard and sigh contentedly.

"So things are going good with that boy of yours?" Will ask

"I think so, yeah. Still light, flirty fun. I think I'm getting the hang of it.

"Plus, I'm getting a ton of work stuff done. I'm going to pitch some more horror-themed articles to Vanessa. See if I can get some cross-promotion going with Amazon and Tasty for 80’s Horror movie BluRays and Halloween recipes. 'Freddy's Famous Fudge' or 'Chucky's Chocolate Chunk Cookies,'; something like that."

Will’s eyes burn into you.

"That's fucking genius and I hate you so much right now it's sickening."

"Thanks, Sunshine!”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You wrap up all of the articles you’d pitched to Vanessa during the week. You include a proposal for ten new Wonder Woman articles that you’re sure she’ll enjoy.

But all the photos of sexy lumberjacks, Converse All-Star shoes, and 80’s new wave classics has got Jay on your mind. 

You stop by the Half Price Books in Niles and pick up an old Fangoria magazine to use as wrapping paper for Jay’s Oingo Boingo birthday present. 

While rifling through their collection, you found the _Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child_ special issue. There was a little water damage and the cover was torn, but considering that you were going to cut all the pages out and make it into wrapping paper, it worked fine. 

The magazine rang up at half the cover price, totaling $2.10 after sales tax.

_Not bad._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You wrap Jay’s album when you get home; taping an especially sassy picture of Freddy front and center. You don’t have a bow or anything fancy to finish it off as spectacularly as you would want, but it still looks pretty good. 

You warm up the pasta you couldn’t finish at lunch and curl up in the corner of your small couch. 

<< You ready?

**_> > For two indistinguishable 80s babes to solve some ill-defined mystery?_ **

**_> > Oh, I was born ready. _ **

<< You forgot about the unnecessary nudity and the deadly snake subplot. 

**_> > That’s just the appetizer before the feast of 80s boob-based action schlock. _ **

<< You’re such a dork. 😋

You text through the movie, laughing at the rocket launcher/blow up doll scene and comparing your favorite moments. Jay says he laughs till he cries every time ‘Shades’ gets the razor blade frisbee lodged in his neck. 

Once the blonde secret agent/Playboy Bunny/helicopter pilots meet up with the two male model/secret agents, things get a little steamy. 

How would Jay handle being in the same room with you during a sex scene? Would he blush? _He’s so cute when he blushes._ You wonder if his chest would go as pink as his cheeks. 

<< So does this soft-core porn stuff get you going?

**_> > You mean the shovel face guy groaning as the chick rubs her upper stomach on his junk?_ **

<< Ya. 

**_> > Oh yeah. Super turned on. 🍆_ **

<< Thank god. I thought it was just me. 😅

**_> > Now if they do an artsy silhouette of them banging like in Top Gun or The Terminator, I might have to excuse myself. _ **

Your head swims at the thought of Jay getting so turned on he’d have to take himself in hand… You try to shake your mind clear, but it doesn’t do much to help.

Why do Cindi and Franny always get the _10 Best Vibrators on Amazon Right Now_ articles? You’re sure you could use one or eight right now. 

Maybe you should splash yourself with ice water. Or just sleep in the refrigerator tonight. That might help. 

**_ >> Sorry if that was over the line. I was joking. _ **

_Oh shit!_ That was an awkward time to leave him hanging. 

<< No! I thought it was hilarious. Sorry, I just got a little distracted. 

**_> > Is there something going on?_ **

_You have NO idea, you beautiful bastard._

You try to change the subject. 

<< Actually, yeah. I was just looking over at your birthday present. 🎁

**_> > You don’t need to buy me anything _ **

**_> > You already gave me the best birthday present ever _ **

<< You liked my PeeWee Herman dance that much, did you? 

**_> > Yes. _ ** 😆 **_Yes I did_ **

**_> > But I mean coming out to check on me, and lunch, and dinner, and my cake, and a party_**

**_> > You’re amazing. _ **

<< Well you did let me borrow a toothbrush, so I think we’re square. 

**_> > It’s actually still in my bathroom. I can send it to you if you’re in need of a toothbrush approved by the American Dental Association._ **

<< I’m telling Mac that you’re making _Home Alone_ references full-time now. 

**_> > Nooooo! _ **

**_> > I couldn’t live with myself if the kid from Getting Even With Dad ever found out I referenced his earlier work!_ **

<< Maybe you could hold on to my sparkly purple toothbrush. 

<< It could join the ranks of all the other items lucky ladies have left in that bathroom

**_> > What do you mean?_ **

Shit. You re-read your last text. _Damn it._ That might not have been the most well-thought-out thing you’ve ever texted. 

<< It was just a joke. 

<< Like cause of all the other girly things you have in those drawers. 

<< Hair ties and ladies deodorant and everything. 

<< Not that ladies are always leaving their overnight things in your bathroom 

_Stop digging this hole!!!!!_

**_ >> What are you talking about?_ **

_What the fuck ARE you talking about?_

You stare at the screen and wonder how you lost this so quickly. How do you tell a man you just met that you’re kind of jealous whichever girl left her scrunchies in his drawer?

**_> > Oh! Do you mean the drawers with all the hotel soaps?_ **

<< Yeah. Downstairs. 

**_> > I’m sorry to let you down, but that’s all my grandmother’s _ **

**_> > The expiration date on this Lady Speed Stick is October 2015. _ **😬

Relief washes over you from head to toe. _God bless Jay’s grandmother._

<< Yikes

<< That was a great year though. 

_Nice save, weirdo._

**_> > You should know I keep all the trophies of my conquests in my UPSTAIRS bathroom._ **

_Uhhh…_ ****

**_> > That was an awful joke. _ **

<< Lol! We both made terrible, awkward jokes! That’s nice.

**_> > Any men’s razors in your shower? _ **

_Oh ho ho._ Nice segue, Bauman.

<< I have several men’s razors in my bathroom, yes. 

<< Because they cost like 5 bucks less than the lady kind.

**_> > So you’re not seeing anyone?_ **

Your eyes squint till they’re nearly closed as you stare at your phone. 

_How could he…?_ Wait… 

<< Are you serious?

**_> > You said you weren’t married, but I didn’t know if you were seeing anyone now. _ **

_How in the hell?_ You think back through your conversations. Surely at some point he… How could he not… wow. 

Man! Will was right about this beautiful dum dum. You decide to see how far you can take this: 

<< No, Jay. 

<< Of course I’m not seeing anyone. 

**_> > That’s good. _ **

**_> > I mean that’s cool. _ **

<< I’m interested in someone, though. I’ve known him for a long time. 

**_> > Right._ **

<< But he lives in another state. 

**_> > That sucks. I’m sorry. _ **

<< Really handsome but he doesn’t know it. Perfect smile. 

<< Super smart, too.

<< And SO funny! He makes me laugh all the time. 

**_> > That’s nice. _ **

<< I’d love for you to meet him sometime. 

**_> > Sure._ **

<< Jay 😑

<< JAY!!

<< I’m very clearly talking about you. 

You curl up on your couch under your fluffy blanket and wait for his response. 

**_> > Me?_ **

You roll your eyes; hard.

<< Yes, you. 

You bite your lip as he writes his next text.

**_> > Oh. _ **

**_> > Okay. _ **

_..._

_‘Okay?’_

_…_

_What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_

You type out a quick reply:

<< Okay?

<< Sorry, I guess?

<< If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. 

<< I’d still like to be friends. 

<< I just wanted to be honest with you. 

**_> > Okay. _ **

...

**_> > I need to go. _ **

Your chest crumples down before your hands start to shake. 

<< I didn’t mean to make anything weird. 

**> > No. It’s fine. I gotta go. **

<< Goodnight. 

You wait for Jay to type his ‘goodnight’ back, but nothing happens. 

If you had been less stunned, you would have cried. As it stands, your watery eyes can’t even blink the tears away. 

_What the hell was that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe him? And they were having such a great time! I thought things were going well! What's wrong with that guy!?


	17. Friday, September 18, 2020 8:00am - At Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work sucks. Then it doesn't.

Fuck today.

Fuck work. Fuck this shitty apartment. 

Everything fucking sucks.

You rip the stupid charger out of your shitty phone to turn off your dumb alarm and see a text from Jay.

**_> > Good morning _ **

"What the fuck is this?" you groan. You rub your eyes and open your messaging app.

**_> > I'm really sorry about last night._ **

**_> > I'm not good at this._ **

**_> > At all._ **

**_> > It's 3am and I'm an idiot_ **

**_> > But I think you're great._ **

**_> > Maybe we could talk tomorrow? Like over the phone?_ **

You huff so hard you fog up your screen. 

<< I guess that's okay. 

You decide not to add anything else. Let him just stew in that for a while.

**_> > Okay. _ **

**_> > I know you're busy with work._ **

**_> > I'm going to head into the office to sort merch and pick up some mail._ **

**_> > But I'll be here if you want to talk before tonight._ **

<< Fine.

The traffic to your office is light today. The pandemic has so many people working from home that your commute has been cut in half. The parking garage is nearly empty and you get a spot on the first floor. Ironic that a deadly virus has actually made your work at Buzzfeed _more_ enjoyable. 

You're too sour and angry to wow anyone with your initiative and writing today. You crank out all of the garbage corporate demands of you and that's about it. You throw in a couple more Am I The Asshole articles for good measure. All of them just so happen to feature a clueless, idiot man _clearly_ being The Asshole. 

You're determined to wait all day before giving Jay a piece of your mind this evening.

It's around eleven before you completely cave and send him a message.

<< Can you at least tell me if I totally misread things? 

<< I'm sorry if I overstepped.

You set your phone next to your keyboard so you can try to get some work done. 

It's not working. 

Instead, you just place your fingers on the keyboard and watch your phone screen go black. 

You stare at a blank screen for way longer than you should. 

"So you’re acting weiiiiiiird," Will chimes from his desk. "You just… you hoping… shit, I can't even think of anything witty. You okay?"

You turn to Will and try to smile.

"He's not responding."

"What a little shit head!" Will yelps.

"I told him I was interested in him last night and he just totally shut down."

"Shut _you_ down?"

"No. **_He_ ** shut down. He was like, 'I gotta go… be a stupid man… and stare at the sunset' or whatever. I don't know," you sniffle.

"Well… maybe something came up. He's not just glued to his phone all day, right? Doesn't he, like, _build_ things and talk on camera all the time?"

"I guess so, yeah," you shrug. "He just told me he was going to be available all day if I wanted to text him, but now he's not even responding."

"Well then he's an _asshole_ and I _hate_ him," Will concludes. 

"Thanks, Will." You try a smile, but it doesn't feel right. 

"Why don't you just turn that phone off until lunch?" Will suggests. "If he texts before then, he'll have to wait for your response… _total power move_ … and if he doesn't, at least you won't make yourself sick while you wait."

"That sounds better than this crap," you groan. You turn your phone off and toss it into your bag. 

You're not as laser-focused as you have been all week, but you manage to get three more articles done. You turn in another ten of your horror-movie-inspired _Tasty_ crossover recipe ideas before your stomach growls.

"Do you want to get lunch?" you inquire around noon.

"Just let me get the finishing touches on this article on Keanu Reeves being the internet's perfect boyfriend," he replies.

"That's the Lord's work you're doing there," you smile.

"Don't I know it!" Will chimes happily. He types up the last two sentences while you watch and sends it over to Vanessa.

"Did you watch _My Own Private Idaho_ like I suggested?" you ask him.

"Honey, I'm a gay man with impeccable taste; I watch that movie once a month," he smiles.

You grab your bag as Will wraps an airy scarf around his neck. He extends his hand and you take it easily; heading out for banh mi sandwiches from the Vietnamese place down the street.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You make it through lunch mostly fine. Will keeps you thoroughly distracted by relaying all of the latest drama in the drag community. Apparently, some new girl got caught stealing Athena Robinson's stage jewelry and the emcee for the evening, Romona Fairchild, spent most of the night threatening to rip out the girl's shitty weave.

You're able to follow the story just fine, but some of the terms are lost on you. Still, it's always entertaining to see what Will does when he's not chained to the desk next to yours; pumping out click bait targeted at the queer community for a meager paycheck.

He brings up his latest ensemble: a recreation of one of Lady Gaga's costumes from the video for _Telephone_. 

“The bitch was finding enough phones to make the headpiece. I’ve been scrounging thrift shops for months,” Will says proudly as he shows you a photo. Will is in full drag, complete with a latex dress, taped nipples, and crown made from blue telephones. He holds a bag of Wonderbread in one hand and a tub of Miracle Whip in the other. 

It’s amazing. Just like everything he makes. 

“Why don’t you do this professionally?” you ask sincerely. "This is _gorgeous_."

“There’s only a handful of queens that can actually make a living with it," Will explains wistfully. "But they all have to travel full time and stay out till 4am every night trying to make contacts. No thank you. I'd rather be at home with David and my babies."

"Don't you ever feel stifled by all the kitchy quizzes and click-bait we write? You're an artist with this stuff, Will."

"You're sweet. And sure, of course I do. But this job **isn't** my life, it's eight hours out of my day."

You think about that for a moment. 

Maybe Will's perspective is what keeps him happy. That and like zero percent body fat and a sexy, sexy husband.

"Besides,” he adds. “I get to sneak in articles about how to get started in drag, and how to create a stage name based on your favorite Starbucks coffee order.” 

You look at Will quizzically.

“And that gets you through the day?” you chuckle. 

Will tilts his head sharply for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

“"You remember that series I did a few years ago? Oral Historical: A Vocal History of Drag? "

You nod dutifully.

"One time, I got an email from a boy; his name was Brandon, and he told me that he was from rural Nowhere, and in the seventh grade. Brandon told me he had seen some episodes of the show, and that they'd struck him down like a bolt from heaven- he was dramatic like that, it was adorable-anyway, he also told me that he was very shy. 

“He'd gone through a lot of social rejection, he was very nervous about being himself around people. Then he told me that hearing the stories about other queens had about their experiences with navigating school and life had helped him realize that he couldn't make himself smaller for the sake of other people... that he was worth knowing as he was..."

Will's eyes go glassy and he sniffles once.

"Ugh! Sorry. Allergies acting up." His voice sounds withered and he bristles at the sound of it.

"Brandon said that he needed to learn more about Drag Culture, because he wanted to become a Queen one day, and he wanted to get it all right, but the parental controls on his computer blocked a lot of resources. But for some reason, Buzzfeed kinda slipped under their radar! He was hoping I could start posting tutorials and protocols for performance etiquette!...

So, being the kind and generous queen that I am, I went all in for this kid-"

Your memory slaps you with recollection of a sewing tutorial and you gasp.

"The dress video!"

Will had been almost maniacal in his conviction to recreate Bianca Del Rio's 5 minute dress, while also muffling the sound of the sewing machine as much as possible. He'd been stressed and had at multiple times laid on the floor in the break room and stared into the ceiling, praying for success with silence and a clenched jaw. It was the most focused you had ever seen him. 

"Exactly. All of those, the wig oven, the drug store makeup looks, The Top 10 Drag Performances in movies- The Mindful Meditations for when your eyeliner doesn't match? All of that stuff is for Brandon, and every kid like him.

“I churn out all the other shit I have to, but that's what I actually care about -Entertaining, teaching, normalizing; It's important. Even if it comes in the form of sponsored content and affiliate codes, I can still contribute to my community..."

Will takes out his phone and taps the screen a few times, before turning it to show you.

It's a picture of a younger queen, a clear homage to Will’s drag character, Dixie Wrect: complete with Dixie’s signature sequin eyelashes. 

A tall stack of jet black curls sits atop her head and a highlight of crushed citrine graces the top of her dark cheekbones. She's holding up a peace sign, almost obscured by the sticker bearing her name and message.

Thanks, Mom! ~ Stacy Wrect 

"After all, our children are the future."

This moment is so heartwarming you could choke.

"That's beautiful, Will."

“Everything I do is beautiful, but thank you,” he smiles. 

You sigh wistfully. “I wish I could do that. I don’t think I’m as passionate about anything as you are about drag and performing.”

“You should give it a try some time. Find something that you actually give a shit about and sneak it in. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“Wanna walk back together?”

“Yeah. That sounds nice,” you agree. Will holds out his arm to you like the very fancy gentleman he is and you’re in just the right mood to take it. 

You walk arm-in arm on the way back to the office. The large glass door at your building's entrance squeaks sharply as you enter the lobby.

“Shit, my phone!” you chirp. You follow close to Will as you dig through your bag with one hand. "I forgot it was off." 

When you finally find it at the bottom of your satchel, you hold down the power button and your screen comes back to life. Notifications begin to _flood_ in.

“Oh my god, there’s like a dozen missed calls and a ton of texts,” you tell Will as you scroll down your screen.

“I can see that,” Will replies with a pinch of snark.

“Sorry. _Shit!_ I have to call him right now,” you reply as you try your very best to remember how to use your phone as a phone. 

“I don’t think that's gonna be necessary,” Will replies.

“He was an asshole, but I’m not going to stop talking to him just cause he can't process his feelings."

You finally get your phone to dial Jay’s number and wait for the line to connect. The sound of John Carpenter’s theme from _Halloween_ begins to play in the lobby. 

You keep your phone pressed to your ear as you look up to see Jay standing ten feet away. His hair is a touch out of place and his wide eyes look nervous. Wet spots have formed under the armpits of his plain gray t-shirt.

_Dammit! Why does he still look amazing?!_

“Jay?!?” you yell. “What are you doing here?” You cancel your call and throw the phone in your bag. 

“You weren’t answering. And I… I had to see you,” he confesses breathlessly. “I don’t know your address, but I knew you worked here, so I’ve been waiting for you. For a while.”

“I’m just gonna head right on back to the office then,” Will announces. He takes several quick steps away, but is clearly visible hiding behind a large column; listening to every word. 

“I’ve been texting for hours," Jay relays. "I know you’re mad at me and you have a right to be. I’m such an idiot. I… I messed up. Really bad,” he explains. 

You’re still angry, but your heart swells in your chest. 

“I don’t… I don’t know how… **_fuck_ **,” he growls. He takes a trembling breath and tries to calm himself. “I don’t know how any of this happened. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Jay. I know you’re not great expressing how you feel. Unless it’s about movies, I guess. But you can’t freeze up and stop talking to me.”

"I…" he tries. "I need you to…" Jay runs his hands through his hair by his temples. "Here."

Jay reaches into his back pocket and grabs a piece of paper. He holds it out to you sheepishly before immediately nibbling on his index cuticle. 

“You wrote something for me? Wow. That’s actually really sweet,” you fawn. 

Jay looks at you, then the letter, then back at you as his teeth tear into his finger.

You unfold the sheet carefully. There’s a strange seal on the top of the page. You scan the contents of the letter and the realization hits you like a truck. 

…

...

**_“WE’RE FUCKING MARRIED?!?!??!”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I was so excited to post this chapter, I had to post it early!!!! There's still three more chapters worth of Friday that I'll be posting tomorrow, so hold on to your butts!
> 
> What do you think?! You excited to kick this story up a notch?! Fanfic Romantic Comedy has arrived!
> 
> I'm dying to know what you think! Leave me a comment or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/)!


	18. Friday, September 18th 2020 1:05pm - At Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay explains how the hell this happened. You are not happy.

"Bullshit!" you decree. Your words reverberate across the lobby. 

"I'm so sorry," Jay tries.

"Don't you even start with me! What is this?" 

"I... I got it in the mail this morning," he explains shakily.

“I tell you I like you and you shut down completely. You leave me, crying alone in my apartment, thinking you'll never talk to me again and then you fucking show up here with this!?"

Jay looks like you punched him in the stomach.

"You're supposed to meet me at my work and tell me you feel the same way about me! With fucking flowers or something, you dick!"

"I'm… I'm sorry."

You imagine yourself strangling him.

"How the fuck is this even possible?!? This can't be legal!"

"I called the Wisconsin Department of Vital Records, but they wouldn't talk specific cases over the phone. But they said that because of Covid-19, people can now get officially married online through the state's website. You just need an electronic signature from the... uh... _couple..._ and one from a witness. 

"The FUCK?! When the fuck did I sign anything?!” 

"You didn't, actually. The bride's signature has never been required on Wisconsin marriage certificates, apparently.”

"So YOU fucking signed this?" 

"I don't remember doing it! It had to be the night of my birthday."

"Well who the FUCK was the witness?"

Jay clams up and points you back to the sheet in your hands. You peer down angrily and scan for a name. It’s you, Jay, some Polish-sounding state registrar you don’t recognize and... 

"Michael- **Fucking** -Stoklasa! I'm going to fucking **_kill_ ** him!"

"I talked to him this morning- he was black out drunk. He doesn't remember any of it, either.”

"That's no fucking excuse! What the fuck? Shit! What the fuck am I going to do?" You start to pace back and forth in front of the elevators. 

Will puts his hand on your back and speaks quietly: “I love you honey, but you are just a hot mess right now,” he informs you. “Let’s get you a seat, okay?” He leads you to a lounge area on the other side of the lobby and Jay follows closely behind. 

“What the fuck,” you groan as you take a seat on one of the couches in the lounge. 

"I think we can get divorced pretty easy. I've been on the Wisconsin DVR website all day and I think..."

"Son of a bitch!" you groan. You glare daggers at Jay. "The fucking **_DVR_**?… you said it was the **_DMV_ **website when we woke up!!"

Jay looks up and to the left before taking a long pause. "Ohhhhhh,” he sighs. “That makes more sense now." 

Jay peers up at the man who's currently holding on to your shoulder. 

“Uh, hi. You must be Will?" Jay says with a hopeful smile as he reaches a hand out to the other man. 

Will holds his hand over his heart in shock before looking to you for your permission. You manage to nod at him and he finally shakes Jay's hand.

"She's told me a lot of great things about you," Jay beams.

"Same here," Will responds kindly.

"I hear your Cher is amazing," Jay says. "Do you focus on 1970s Cher or like _Moonstruck_ -era..?"

Will flashes you an impressed glance and you scathe back at him. 

"Are you two finished!?" you say incredulously.

"Sorry. Yeah," Jay replies before letting go of Will's hand. "Uh… I think we should go to the county courthouse together. I guess they don't need a woman's signature to get married, but we need it to get... uh, _divorced_."

"They're only open till four, so we should go now."

"I can't just leave in the middle of the day, Jay."

"Oooo! I can cover for you!" Will chirps. You and Jay both pivot to look at him. 

"You don't have to…"

"I can't ask you to…"

Will bites down on his bottom lip before he starts fanning his eyes with both hands. "This is just too perfect," Will chuckles. “Like my own damn _Mamma Mia._ ”

"Are you _enjoying_ this?!" you shout.

"No! No!" he yells. "Not at all!" He's trying his hardest to keep from smiling and mostly failing.

"It's not funny Will!"

"Oh now come on! You have to realize this is funny! I told you specifically NOT to look at this tight little slice of man as marriage material," Will says before he looks over to Jay. "No offense, honey." Jay's eyes go wide, but Will continues on.

"You're both adorable little idiots, but it's not the end of the damn world. You’re married, not dead; just go and get it taken care of."

"Yeah... Okay…” you nod. “You're right. It's not that big of a deal, right? I mean, we're only married in the eyes of Wisconsin," you rationalize. You finally take a breath and try to calm your pounding heart.

"Yeah. Until Illinois finds out, you should be totally fine," Will assures you.

"Until what?" you ask him nervously.

"If Illinois finds out, or anyone in the office gets wind of it, you'll probably lose your health insurance. And Jay will have to give you half the market price of his house in the divorce. Oh wait… no, if Jay lives in Wisconsin, they already know he'll have to pay that out. So that's actually not too bad a deal for you, honey."

You both look at Will and shout in unison:

_**"What the fuck?!??"** _

Will presses his spread fingertips to his chest like a genteel Southern woman and gasps.

"Well children, if you're married, your combined income would kick her off of our state-subsidized health insurance," Will explains. "And if you get divorced, you have to split your assets and earnings 50/50. That means half his house, half of his savings, half of his business; everything. I spent enough years trying to get _legally_ married that I know the damn system in and out."

"Do you see how both of those options kinda suck for us, Will?" you ask.

"Then just get an annulment. Legally, it’s like the marriage never happened. But you can only do that for like a week or two after the wedding. I think Nic Cage just did that with a stripper in Vegas recently. _Talk about a hot mess express,_ " Will announces.

"Um… no pressure, but I'd prefer to keep my house and all that other stuff," Jay confides to you.

"And I'd enjoy keeping my damn health insurance, so…" you stand up from the couch and hand your marriage certificate back to Jay. "Let's go, I guess."

"Probably gonna want your laptop. And you know, your keys and everything else important on your desk," Will points out.

"Should I wait here?" Jay asks softly.

"I'll keep him company," Will assures you as he and Jay take seats opposite each other. He looks to Jay and crosses one long leg over the other; setting both hands on his knee. His argyle socks are on full display under his smart linen slacks. "We can... chat about costume design... or something."

"Do you design your own costumes?" Jay asks with curious eyes.

"Why, yes I do. Costumes, makeup, prosthetics; I do it all. Give me a glue gun and I'll give you the world."

Will cranes his head toward you. 

"See! We're already two little peas in a pod. Go get your shit," he instructs sharply.

You head for the elevators and hit the call button. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Ten minutes later and you're almost back to the lobby. You picked up your house keys, laptop, and the bag of emergency candy from your desk drawer. 

_You've already finished the candy._

You round the corner to the lounge area and hear Will chatting happily.

"...ust _have_ to watch Divine's early emcee work. All the fucked-up, filthy banter you could ever dream of; totally improvised."

"That's why she's so great in all of the Waters films," Jay adds.

"Actually, a lot of her performances were based off of her real experience. Glenn Milstead started as a women's hairdresser, you know. And the most popular mainstream Waters film was…"

"Oh my god, _Hairspray_!" Jay marvels. "That makes so much sense! They were such an amazing team." 

They both look so happy, you almost don't want to interrupt. But you've got a 90-minute drive ahead of you.

"I think we can leave, Jay," you inject.

"Right. Okay," Jay answers as he gets to his feet. "It was really great to meet you, Will."

Will stands and adjusts his scarf before extending his hand out to Jay. 

"The pleasure is all mine," he assures the shorter man before shaking his hand. Will glances over at you with a warm smile. 

"I'll handle Vanessa, don't worry."

Jay walks to stand by you and puts both hands in his back pockets. 

"Thanks, Will. I appreciate it."

"No problem," he assures you as he runs a hand down your shoulder. 

You check your bag as Jay leads the way to the exit. Will stands in the doorway and you make your way outside. He waves enthusiastically before holding both hands up to his mouth like a megaphone.

"And **_congratulations_** , you two!” he yells loud enough for half of Chicago to hear him. “Hope you have a fun honeymoon!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jay's mostly silent on the walk to his car. He got a spot directly across from yours in the parking garage.

When you both take your seats and close the doors, he sits quietly with both hands on the wheel. 

"It's not…" he starts. 

You hold your breath, waiting for his reply. You make it about eight seconds before you give up and just start breathing normally.

"Could you please just start the car, Jay?"

"Yeah, sorry," he replies sadly. His shoulders sink as he reaches for the keys in the ignition.

You're still pretty pissed, but he looks miserable. Sure it's his own damn fault, but you don't enjoy his suffering.

"Hold on," you tell him.

Jay glances at you nervously before his eyes dart to the radio. 

"So you _really_ don't remember doing this to me? Cause I don't remember anything. Not at all."

"I swear to god, I don't remember any of it," he quickly answers. "I'd never marry youuu..."

Your lips tense into a tight line as you clench your teeth. Heavy tears immediately blur your vision. You try to look up at the roof of Jay's car to stop them from falling, but they streak down your face anyways.

"Fuck!" Jay yells. He slaps both hands to his eyes and groans loudly.

 _"Without permission_ ," he clarifies. "I would never marry **anyone** _without their permission."_

Jay's hands rub down his cheeks and he wraps them both around his neck before shaking his head and taking a shallow breath.

"I'm fucking terrible at this. You have to know that. You should... you _deserve_ to be with someone who… _fuck_... who isn't an idiot when it comes to this stuff."

"Well thanks for your concern, Jay. But the 'it's not you, it's me' line isn't really helping right now."

His head falls back against the driver's seat. 

"Shit," he sighs. "That _is_ cliche, isn't it?"

You look straight ahead and continue on: "I didn't profess my undying love for you. I didn't get your name tattooed above my ass. I just told you I was _interested_ in you and you shut down."

"I know. I’m sorry. I just... it's not like I don't... I.. can't be in a relationship,' Jay maintains. "I'm fucking _terrible_ in relationships."

"I didn't **ask** you for one!" you snap. 

You can see Jay's forehead wrinkle in confusion in the corner of your vision.

"I was hoping for something light..." you stop yourself, realizing how silly it sounds, but you continue on anyway. "Something 'light, flirty fun,'" you sigh. "Like texting, maybe a phone call, visiting each other every now and then."

"Really?" Jay questions.

"Yeah, really."

"Okay. That sounds good."

You finally turn in your seat and stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Jay.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'd really like that," Jay says timidly. "Talking to you. Seeing you. All of that."

You blink twice.

"How about we figure out _how to get divorced_ before we start talking about 'us,' huh?"

"Oh. Yeah. Right. That's fair," Jay says before cracking a half-smirk. 

You shake your head softly in disbelief. Despite your best efforts, a small smile forms on your lips.

"Just take me to fucking Wisconsin, Jay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was asking, Yes.... you can get married online now because of Covid and Yes, some states in the US don't require the woman to sign anything. Nuts, right? 
> 
> And is that a sliver of hope from Jay? Hmmmmm? Stay tuned! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	19. Friday, September 18th 2020 3:10pmn - Milwaukee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get some upsetting news about the annulment. Jay takes you on a tour.

Jay makes decent time back to South Milwaukee. Being 2pm on a Friday, the Chicago traffic is actually tolerable. He plugs his phone into the car stereo and you listen to _The Last Podcast on the Left_ the whole way. Jay adds in bits of movie production trivia for you when he can. 

The sound of his voice, especially his laughter, is a soothing balm on your very frazzled nerves. Thirty minutes into the drive and you start to forget the real reason for this little excursion. As long as you’re near him, listening to his never-ending cavalcade of bizarre facts and movie insights, everything else just fades away.

Until, of course, you walked into the Oak Creek County Courthouse a little after three. 

A large Black man in a camo-print face mask sits in a plexiglass booth near the front door. He sets down his copy of _Good Omens_ and waves your both forward with gloved hands. 

"How could I help you folks today?" 

"Uh, we need to get a divor… _annulment,_ " you answer.

"I'm sorry to hear that," says the man behind the plexiglass. He grabs a half-sheet of paper and starts circling sections of text. "You gotta schedule an appointment. We open online scheduling every Thursday at 9am."

"You mean like _next_ Thursday?” 

“I do indeed, ma’am,” he replies. 

“We… uh… is there anything we can do before then?" Jay asks.

"Besides kiss and make up, not too much," the man replies. His deep brown eyes squint as he smiles under his mask. 

You and Jay look at each other sheepishly. 

"There's an on-call option,” the man adds. “That's in case someone else fails to show up to their appointment. But you gotta get here within ten minutes or it goes to the next couple in line."

"We're not a couple," Jay responds. 

"You’re at divorce court, man. I assume you’re not together," the man chuckles. "But you **both** gotta be here to sign the annulment paperwork."

“That sounds… okay… yeah,” Jay thinks out loud. “We could do that. You can stay with me. I'm like five minutes right down the street.” 

You look at the man in the booth and shrug your shoulders. 

“Sure," you tell him. "Sign us up for the ‘on-call’ list, please.”

“Spots open up pretty regularly on that, so it will probably just be a few days. But that’s only IF you get here in ten minutes or less,” the man specifies. 

“Yes, sir,” Jay replies as he writes down his contact information. 

You fill out your side of the form, taking special care to write as legibly as possible.

"Thank you, sir," you conclude as the man takes your completed form with a gloved hand. 

"Y'all are cute together. That's a real shame," he comments. 

"We're not… _god damn it_ ," you grumble under your breath and head toward the exit.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jay drives the short trip to his home and takes the alleyway to park in the garage. You make it back into Jay's warm, comfortable house and take a seat on the couch in his living room.

Jay follows a step behind and sits on the opposite side of the couch. He clears his throat once before turning to face you.

"I know it's not after sex, but I could really use a drink. You?" Jay asks.

"I'm sorry, what?" you reply in a daze.

"It's not after six, but I could use a drink. Would you like one?"

"Uh. Yeah. Okay."

_That was weird._

You rub both eyes with your hands and try to clear your head.

"A drink sounds fine. But swear to me, we're not gonna get 'secret marriage' drunk again."

"I don't think that's possible for me anymore. I've settled pretty comfortably into my 40's now. I think I have to start worrying about my prostate health."

"And your cholesterol, probably. I know there's a good kind and a bad kind, but not which is which. I don't think I'm gonna be much help," you explain.

"I'll just Google it," Jay replies with a half-smile. He heads into the kitchen and comes back a minute later with two cold beers: New Glarus Spotted Cow, of course.

"I think we drank all of the hard liquor I owned," he assures you. "And I haven't really felt a need to restock since I saw you last. So there's these two beers, plus three more in the fridge and that's it. I promise."

You take his assurance and take the frosty bottle from Jay's hand. You pound half of the beer in a few gulps. 

The room falls to complete silence. A cricket chirp would be a welcome reprieve, but no such luck.

"So… you… we… uh," Jay tries.

"We're married," you quip plainly. You both exhale loudly through your nose. 

Jay nods his head and takes another long drink.

"Yep," he answers. He scratches his beard for a moment and stares at the blank screen of the television. Jay makes a sour face and glimpses over at you. "This is not quite what I had in mind." 

He giggles half-heartedly to himself and covers his smile with his left hand. 

"You want to carry me into bed and ravish me, then?" you ask.

Jay's smile could brighten the dark side of the moon. 

"I… uh…" he chuckles. "Maybe later."

"I've never even seen your bedroom, actually. At least not that I remember," you inform him before taking another gulp.

"Well considering you're living here for a week, you should probably get the full tour," Jay smiles.

"Oh shit! Right. God, I gotta figure out something to tell my boss so I'm not just fucking canned Monday morning."

Jay's eyes convey both guilt and concern in equal measure. 

_How could someone with a face so expressive be so bad at just saying how he feels?_

You wait for him to say something consoling, but give up pretty quickly. 

"It's okay, Jay. I'll figure something out," you sigh. "But I'm here now, and I'd love to see anything you want to show me," you tell him with a warm smile.

Jay stands up from the couch and heads for the stairs in the hallway. You follow along closely, your cold beer sloshing around in your hand.

The cool gray wall along the stairway is adorned with five white canvases. Each features a different blood spray pattern; the artwork gradually becoming more red and gruesome the further you ascend. 

The top floor of Jay's house is the exact same shade of gray as all the walls downstairs. Five white doors lead off of the main landing, all with antique-looking black hardware and knobs.

"There's my office on the far right," Jay says before opening the door nearest the top of the steps. The furniture inside is all Ikea, classic and clean with a deep blueish-gray finish and polished nickel details. Two large monitors sit on a corner desk near the window. Stacks of hand-labeled DVDs fill the shelves of the bookcases nearby. 

A huge _Dawn of the Dead_ poster hands above his desk. It looks tattered and well-loved; probably something he's had since highschool. The corners are almost completely chewed away from years of being pinned and re-pinned to Jay’s walls. 

A black and white guitar rests on a floor stand in the opposite corner next to a red futon.

Your eyes go wide at the sight. 

"Is that what I think it is?!" you ask before pointing to the instrument.

Jay smirks before raising his eyebrow. 

"Depends. Do you think it's my guitar?" he questions.

"Ummmmm… yeah," you smile with excitement. 

"Well then yes. It is what you think it is," Jay smiles shyly. 

_"What the hell?!_ Are you serious?" you laugh. Jay tucks his chin to his chest. “Do you play?”

Jay shrugs slightly as a bashful grin appears on his face. 

"You are just _full_ of surprises, Bauman."

Jay chuckles once and turns away. He closes his office and opens the next door. It's just a linen closet; full of clean towels, sheets, and extra toiletries. 

“In case you need any towels or blankets or anything,” he informs you. 

The fourth door, opposite the linen closet, is already open. The bathroom closely resembles the one on the main floor with the exception of color. This bathroom is white tile up to waist-height, and then a soothing sage green from there up. The towels are a slightly darker green than the walls, all hanging over smooth black bars.

A claw-foot bathtub with black spigots is tucked in the corner under a lower, angled section of the ceiling.

"This is just beautiful, Jay.”

“Thanks. I actually got the tub and the mirror from an old hotel downtown that was being demolished. I made Mike help me carry it up here after he lost a bet.”

“Hell, if I knew this is what your bathroom looked like, I would have just gone for the full divorce.”

Jay's face scrunches up sharply. "Uh… _thanks…_ I guess?" he laughs. He watches you squint at the framed artwork on the walls. As you walk inside, Jay leans against the door frame to watch you. 

The bathroom has a half-dozen black-and-white art prints in black frames on the walls. There's a vector-style image of Jason's mask just above an artful portrait of Freddy Krueger. 

The high-contrast style is repeated on the other four pieces; a silhouette of Chucky with his butcher knife, Mike Myers in his eyeless mask, Linda Blair's scarred face from _The Exorcist,_ and Leatherface in his black suit and chainsaw.

"You made Leatherface into a tasteful accent piece for your bathroom?" you marvel.

"I like to do my business in style," he explains with a boyish giggle. 'My grandmother used to have a nautical theme up here. I couldn't deal with all the fucking wooden seagulls and paintings of boats, but I did want to keep a theme. So… here we are," he laughs. He walks to the next door as you make your way out. 

You glance down at the deep mahogany wood of the vanity sink when a flash of purple catches your eye. 

Your toothbrush, along with a matching blue version, sits in a white ceramic cup on the countertop. 

"This is the guest room,” Jay announces from the landing. “Home-away-from home for the star of such films as _Party Monster_ and _Uncle Buck_ , mister Macaulay Culkin.” 

You walk into the furthest room on the left where Jay stands waiting for you. 

The room is on the smaller side, but still serviceable. The bed in the corner of the room is full-sized with a deep navy comforter and two fluffy pillows in blue flannel cases. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a small lamp and cellphone charger cables. 

“Alright. This will be fine. I can do this,” you remark before sitting at the end of the bed. You bounce twice, testing the feel of the mattress. It’s a little lumpy, but you can make it work. 

“Oh, no. You’re not staying in here,” Jay announces. “I make Mac sleep here. God knows what kind of venereal diseases are lurking in those sheets.” 

“Oh god damn it, Jay!” you say as you jump off the mattress. 

“Probly Mila Kunis’ crabs. Seth Green’s everything else,” he deadpans. 

You walk up to him and slap him on the chest with the back of your hand. He feels so solid your brain shorts out for a moment. You flip your hand over slowly and place it over his chest. Everything feels... _stronger..._ than you remember.

“Jay?” you ask without looking up. Your hand continues to move toward his shoulder. 

“Yeah?” Jay answers quietly.

“Have you…? Have you been... working out?” you ask as you feel the muscles of his chest. The only sound in the room is your skin gliding against the cotton fabric of his shirt. You feel him breathe under your touch. 

“Uh… yeah.... a little,” he admits.

Your hand roams to his shoulder, gripping his deltoid tight before moving to his bicep. You peek back at Jay with an sly smile. 

“Skipping arm day?” you tease. Jay smiles bashfully and darts his eyes away. 

“Well you can’t really feel anything like that,” he points out. “Here,” Jay says as he lifts his arm. He flexes and the muscle under your fingertips pulls taut. 

“You were perfectly impressive before,” you breathe. Jay shakes his head dismissively and keeps his gaze to the floor. You take a moment to examine his jawline; the smooth transition from his chin up to his ear and the smattering of sparkling gray hairs at his temple. Your hand stills on his bicep as he looks up at you. 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears when his eyes meet yours. In the bright afternoon sunlight of his guest room, you can see how marvelously complex his eyes really are.

The overall color is lovely, but being this close, you can finally see the flecks of rich amber and bursts of gold and aquamarine; all surrounded by rings of deep, forest green.

His eyes crinkle gently at the corners as a smile forms on his face. 

“So I should… we should… uh... “ Jay stumbles. 

You take a step back and release your grip on Jay’s arm. 

“Yeah. Sure,” you cough. “But uh… good work on the…” you motion your finger to his chest and arms, “...well on the ‘you,’ I guess.” You feel your cheeks flush red. Hopefully, Jay will think it’s just the heat of the room. _Goddamn it’s hot in his room._

“Thanks,” he mumbles. “Anyways, uh. Well I’ll stay in here. The mattress is older and kinda bumpy, so I’ll take this one,” he explains on the way out. 

He walks to the last room, situated on the other side of the bathroom from where you stand and opens the solid white door. 

The walls in his bedroom are painted deep, crimson red. His jet-black dresser, headboard and side tables are simple and sturdy looking. The two side tables each feature a tall silver lamp with a deep, charcoal gray shade that matches the drapes. 

“I thought you’d like it better in my bed,” Jay offers. He sits on the smokey silver comforter at the end of his mattress. You step inside and the smell of him fills your nostrils. 

“It’s a king, so there’s plenty of space to stretch out if you want. I just got it like a year ago, actually. It’s super nice.” Jay begins to go into detail about how difficult it was to get up the stairs or something. You can’t quite hear him anymore.

The smell of his skin, his sweat; it’s _everywhere_. Like you can _taste_ him. You wipe the corner of your mouth, convinced you’re starting to drool.

He runs his hand over the mattress by his side to indicate you can ‘try it out.' His flushed, pink lips are moving, but he doesn’t seem to be making a sound. There’s just a high-pitched ringing and the deafening noise of your heartbeat. 

“...might try to sleep with you…” floats into your ears. 

“What?” you ask nervously. 

“Regan might try to sleep with you in here,” Jay explains. “She’s pretty fond of the bed. But you can just keep the door closed.”

“Oh. That’s fine. Yeah,” you answer. You down the rest of your beer in a single gulp and try to focus. 

“Are you okay?” he asks with concern.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just a little out-of-sorts.”

“How about a movie?” he offers. 

“In here?” you question. 

“Well, I suppose we could...” he says as he points to the absolutely gigantic wall-mounted television behind your left shoulder. 

“Oh wow! I didn’t even see that!” Jay watches your shocked expression and giggles behind his hand. “Downstairs is fine,” you confirm. “Plus I’m getting hungry anyways.” 

He stands up from the mattress and rubs both hands together as he formulates a plan. 

“Dinner and a movie it is, then,” Jay laughs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of Jay making horror classy and refined home decor. :) 
> 
> And sleeping in his huge, comfy bed that smells just like him? Sign me up, amiright?


	20. Friday, September 18th 2020 4:30pm - Jay's Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get comfy. Then they fall apart.

You head back down the stairs and notice the red on the blood spatter looks familiar. 

“Is this the same color from your room?” you ask him. 

“Wow. Good eye. Yeah, these are all just made from the dropcloth I used when I was painting. I am not the cleanest painter, so the cloth got covered in red. I thought it looked kinda cool, so I made wooden frames for them and stretched the fabric over them like a canvas.”

“Terrifying _and_ thrifty. That’s a rare combo, Jay. I like it,” you smile. 

He seems authentically happy to receive that compliment and grins proudly. “Thanks,” he says, and heads down to the main floor.

“What are you in the mood for?” Jay asks as he walks to the kitchen for another pair of beers. He cracks the tops off of two more Spotted Cows as he lists some options for you. “Italian, Mexican, burgers…?”

“Something on the lighter side, if that’s okay,” you answer. “I’m still kinda… processing… I guess.”

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees. “Oh! You’d really like Cafe Centraal. They do a ton of awesome tacos, wraps, sandwiches, all that stuff. I don’t think they even allow forks in the restaurant. We can get it delivered whenever you’d like.” Jay looks down to his phone to pull up the menu.

“That sounds good.” 

You take a long swig of your fresh beer and after a brief moment honest self-reflection, come to an insightful conclusion: 

“One and a half more of these just isn’t going to cut it, Jay.”

He looks up at you through his eyelashes with a knowing smile. 

“Cafe Centraal also delivers beer.”

You breathe a sigh of relief: “Then I would like all of the beer, please.”

“How about _two_ to split?” he offers. “They’re just big cans, like thirty-two ounces each, I think.”

“Perfect. Yes. That.”

You walk to the living room and flump down again on Jay’s comfy couch. 

“What kind of movie are you in the mood for?” Jay asks before turning his back to peruse his tall shelves. “I got lots of horror, of course... some cerebral mind-fuck horror… uh…. classic giallo imports… this is mostly cannibal stuff over here…. uh…”

“What about something funny?” you ask. “I’ve kinda had a weird day. Just something fun would be nice.”

Jay turns back to you and nods his complete understanding. “Totally with you there, yeah. How about…” He pulls a selection of BluRays off of his shelves and holds them up for your approval. 

_“Wet Hot American Summer?_ ” he offers as he shakes the case in his right hand. He cycles to the next movie. “Or… _Big Trouble in Little China?”_ He sets that case down and grabs the last movie with both hands “Or... _UHF?”_

“I don’t know, Jay,” you sigh. You eye his movies and click your tongue absentmindedly. “Do you think we can watch... _all_ of them?” 

Jay’s eyes go wide. “Really?! You’d be okay with that?” 

“Of course I’d be okay with that,” you laugh. 

Your purse lips in consideration: “But I want to go in increasing order of the absurd.”

“Yeah! Then we’ll start with _Big Trouble_ , then _UHF,_ then save _Wet Hot_ for when we’re good and sauced,” Jay giggles. 

“Well let’s get started, shall we?” 

Jay hands you his phone to look through the Cafe Centraal menu. As soon as he recommends the tacos, you’re sold. You order a lighter, citrusy Belgian beer and Jay requests an amber ale. Jay calls it all in while he double checks his setup. 

He starts up his BluRay player, surround sound system, and huge television before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. After selecting PLAY on the title menu, Jay pulls one of the accent pillows out from behind his back and holds it to his chest like a child with a teddy bear. 

It’s disarmingly cute, but you keep back your comments. 

You pace yourself much better this time, taking a full thirty minutes to finish your second Spotted Cow. The food arrives fifteen minutes after that.

"Fese are da berst goddamn tacosh I'b eber had," you tell Jay rapturously midway-through your second bite. Jay breaks into boisterous laughter and nearly falls over on the couch. You point at him to laugh and a huge glob of salsa spills onto your shirt. "Aaw, shift! Ifs all ober me!" you mutter. 

Jay digs through the take-out bag for a napkin and hands you a small stack. You dab at your shirt, but it's not going to come out. 

It's then you remember you don't have a stitch of clothing besides what you're wearing. 

_How the hell are you going to make it a week when you've already ruined the only shirt you have?_

The reality of your situation bubbles to the top of your mind. You're married -against your will- and you've got no idea how to get out of it. And, shit... Do you even _want_ it out if it? _Fuck!_ And the fucking salsa is ruining your shirt and the waistband of your pants are cutting into your stomach and…"

Jay's cheerful voice reaches through your panicked mind: "We should probably stop by your house tomorrow and get you some clothes." 

You blink through your wet eyes and try to focus on Jay.

He's smiling at you so kindly. His eyes wrinkle beautifully at the corners as he chuckles into his napkin. He grabs your hand and the fear is gone.

"Let's get you another shirt," he says happily. "Would you like some pajama pants, too? I mean, we can't properly do a movie marathon without comfy pants."

"Yeah," you reply in a daze. "That sounds good."

Jay pauses the movie and you both head up to his room. The air is still heavy with the scent of him, but you're on a mission this time. He rifles through his drawers and grabs a black shirt and a pair of red and white flannel lounge pants. 

"You can get changed in here," he relays.

"Aren't you going to get something comfy, too?" 

"Oh! Uh.. yeah. I'd like that. Sure," he stutters as he grabs his gray and red checkered pants from the same drawer. He walks to the doorway and turns to you. "I'll see you down there?"

You nod in agreement and he shuts the door behind himself on the way out. You take a moment to examine the room more closely. The rich, red walls are completely void of photos. No friends, family, or even 80s movie monsters. There's no mirrors or artwork; just four solid walls of blood red, punctuated by the occasional charcoal-gray drapery around the windows.

You strip down to your bra and panties and suddenly wish Jay hadn't left. _How are you mostly naked in the bedroom of a man you've dreamt of for ten years, but he's nowhere to be found?_

You sit on the high-back leather chair in the corner to pull his pants up over your legs. The mattress looks very comfortable but you're not sure you can handle being in Jay's bed right now. 

You pull the black t-shirt over your head and gather your clothes under your arm. Maybe Jay has a detergent pen or something to get the stains out. 

Jay is sitting in his usual spot on the couch as you descend the staircase. It's like prom night in all the movies… if your pink taffeta dress had been transformed into a BooBerry cereal shirt and flannel pants. _Take My Breath Away_ by Berlin plays in the back of your mind as you reach the last step and pivot to see him waiting for you. 

Jay stands back up in slow motion. His shining smile brings time to a standstill. He reaches both hands out to you and your breath hitches in your throat. 

_Is he holding your corsage? Did you remember to buy him a boutonniere?!_

His hand touches yours and your vision blurs in the absolute perfection of the moment. 

"I'll pretreat that salsa stain for you,” he informs you before snatching your clothes and heading for the basement.

The record player in your mind comes to a screeching halt and you stand in a dazed silence. 

"Beer it is, then," you announce to yourself. 

You head for the kitchen and grab your huge Belgian beer growler from the fridge. You pull down two pint glasses from the cabinet near the sink and pour the glasses full.

By the time you get back to the couch, Jay is already absorbed in the epic battle between Egg Shen and David Lo Pan. You hand him a glass and he smiles in thanks. He clanks his pint to yours and you both take heavy gulps. 

_Heavenly_. 

You turn to your side of the couch. 

It's… uh... _different._

Jay has set the other two accent pillows up against the arm rest and draped the black afgan across the rest of the seats. 

It's… a bed. Or at least, it's been set up that way. 

Jay speaks to you, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen.

"If you're tired… you know… from everything. You can lay down. If you want. Up to you."

You pull back the blanket up and get situated on the couch. Your head rests on the pillows and your legs… uh, your legs… _what the fuck are you supposed to do with your legs?_

Jay reaches down and scoops both of them up, settling them over his lap. He wedges the other pillow under your knees and holds on to your ankles against his chest. 

The intimate touch should be shocking. It should be panty-dropping. His bare arm against your calf should rip your heart out of your chest. 

But it doesn't. 

Jay's warm skin over your legs feels like home. Like eating fresh cookies right off the cooling rack. Like fuzzy socks in December. Like taking your bra off as soon as you walk into your apartment after work. 

You feel yourself breathe. Fully in and fully out. _How long has it been since you've actually breathed?_

Jay just sits in his spot, eyes on Kurt Russel, holding your lower legs to his chest. 

When the movie ends, Jay gently lifts your legs and places them down on the couch. He removes _Big Trouble_ and loads _UHF_ before excusing himself to the restroom. 

You worry he'll sit in the comfortable-looking armchair in the corner when he comes back. But he simply lifts your legs up, situates himself at the end of the couch, and pulls your legs back into his lap. 

Over the next hour and a half, you laugh at Weird Al and his hilarious food choices, Billy Barty as the 2-foot-tall cameraman, and all of the other bizarre hijinks in the movie. 

_Wet Hot American Summer_ is as hilarious as it always is. Jay holds your legs even closer when he laughs at Paul Rudd’s dickish antics. When a young camper is thrown out of a speeding van, Jay giggles like a schoolboy. Watching him watch the movie is far more entertaining than it has any right to be. 

By the time the credits roll, it's 11pm. 

Jay pads your ankle and turns to you in his seat. 

“We should get to bed. I’ll take you back to Chicago whenever you’d like tomorrow.”

You replay Jay’s ‘we should get to bed,’ a dozen times in your mind. “Yeah. That sounds good,” you reply distractedly.

When you reach Jay’s bedroom, he comes in to show you both remotes for his TV. You’re dead tired and feel no desire to watch anything, but he stands really close to you while he explains things, so you just let him. 

Jay finishes his technology spiel and sets the remotes back down on the closer nightstand on top of a copy of Stephen King’s _IT._

“Are you still reading that?” you ask him as you take a seat on the edge of his mattress 

“It helps me sleep,” he shrugs. Jay leaves the side lamp on and flips off the light with the switch near the door. “I’m right across the hall if you need anything,” he says just before closing the door. 

You sit in silence as the darkness of the room draws closer. Jay’s footsteps can be heard as he moves away from the door. 

And then nothing. 

No breeze in the trees outside. No fan or air conditioner noise. No cicadas. Just silence. 

The darkness closes in further. 

You leave the light on and crawl under Jay’s covers and the darkness finally catches up. Doubt and anxiety whisper in your ears:

_What are you doing here?_

_He remembers forcing you into this._

_Him and his friends did this._

_You’re going to get fired._

_This isn’t a fucking vacation - you’ve been kidnapped…_

_… by someone who doesn’t even want you._

_Hope you don’t get sick because your health insurance is gone._

_This isn’t home._

_He left you crying and alone yesterday; he’ll do it again._

_DIVORCE!_

_Weak._

“Are you okay?” comes a voice from the doorway. 

You don’t remember curling into a ball on the darker side of the bed, but there you are. Your knees are against your chest as your whole body shakes. Heavy tears drip onto your pillow and you sniffle loudly. 

Jay steps into the light of the side lamp and looks down with a concerned expression 

"I can't…. I don't know what to do,” you whimper. “You stopped talking to me yesterday. And today I'm married. We're married,” you cry. Your shaking arms make you stutter. “And… and all of my clothes are gone. And and and… I don't know if I ha...have health insurance. And I don't… don’t want half of your money cause you're ju...just going to hate me more."

His shoulders slag and he grinds his teeth as he tries to figure out what to say. You pull the covers up to your chin and roll away to face the wall. 

"Pl… please don't tell me you're sorry. I know you're sorry," you sniffle. "But I'm so scared and so tired and I d.. don’t even know what I am to you."

Jay opens his mouth but no words come out; just a deep exhalation. 

You hear his footsteps as he walks to the door. You bury your head under his spare pillow and try to stifle your crying. 

_Of course he left you._

_Left you ten years ago._

_Left you yesterday._

_He always will._

_Because you’re…._

_…you’re…_

“You’re…”

“I’m here,” Jay says quietly. His voice rumbles low under your open hand. Your head on his chest slowly rises and falls each time he breathes. His right arm wraps around your back, holding you close, as his left hand runs through the damp hair near your ears. 

You blink the tears away and look up at him; his sharp features silhouetted by the warm light of the lamp. He cups your head gently, wiping away your tears with his calloused thumb. Jay’s heartbeat is fast, but strong and reassuring. 

When your shaking finally subsides, Jay shuts off the lamp on the side table and brings the covers up over you both. His arms pull you closer as moonlight fills the room. 

“Get some sleep, Cherry Girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reader has had a rough fucking day. The least I could do it get her some night time snuggles. 
> 
> But what does it mean?!?! Damn that gorgeous weirdo!


	21. Saturday, September 19th, 2020 5:00am - Jay's Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

You know you’re alone in Jay’s bed before your eyes open. Still, you smack your hand down on his empty pillow just to be sure.

_Damn it._

It’s not that you were expecting anything else. _How does one start the “Thanks for holding me all night while I cried my eyes out in your lucious, sex dungeon of a bedroom” conversation, anyways?_

Still, you miss the warm, solid feel of him and the sound of his steady heartbeat. You stare up at the ceiling and groan loudly. 

_Why does he always leav..._

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to wake you up- I just _really_ had to pee,” Jay whispers as he crawls back under the covers. He slides his arm under the crook of your neck and pulls you close. 

Your muscles tense up and you keep your arms and legs firmly to yourself. 

Jay has to crane his neck at a weird angle to look at you. 

“Do you not want to sleep anymore? It’s only like five in the morning,” he explains softly. 

“No… uh… yeah.. Sleep. That would be good. Sleep is good.”

Jay chuckles and it reverberates through your body. 

“I think so, too,” he smiles. His beard rubs against your forehead as he smooths his hand down your arm. “But if you want the bed to yourself, I can just go to the guest rooophmf…”

Jay’s last word is garbled as you pitch an arm and leg over him at the same time. He laughs lightly before wrapping both arms around you. His warm breath filters through your hair as you nuzzle into his chest. 

“We’re talking about this later,” you inform him with a yawn. 

“I know,” he whispers. “But sleep for now, okay?”

“Mmmkay,” you mumble into his chest. 

After two more blinks, sleep claims you again. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Your eyes flutter open three hours later to Jay's soft snoring. You’re lying mostly on your side with your chest against his ribcage. Your right arm is draped across his waist with your palm above his heart. 

Jay's lower limbs are tangled up with yours. His checkered lounge pants have shifted in the night, bunching up to his knees and exposing his surprisingly muscular lower legs. You run the side of your foot over his ankle and up his shin to his calf, enjoying the rough feel of his fuzzy leg against your toes. 

As your foot roams to Jay's knee, the inside of your upper thigh coasts up to his… his… 

_Nope!_

_That's assault._

_That's… nope… off limits._

Your mouth runs dry as you will your leg back down Jay's lower body. You blow hard through puffed cheeks to try and distract yourself from his…

_...ppppppfffffffffffoooooo…_

_But it's right there. RIGHT there._

You breathe in again and puff out your cheeks once more. Jay stirs under you and you realize your hand has clamped down hard on his left pectoral.

_Oh shit!_

You spread your hand out wide and Jay relaxes; starting back up with his pleasant snore. You arch your neck up to see his face, but the angle isn't right. All you see is the underside of his bearded chin and the perpetual stubble along his neck.

_But what's this?_

Your right hand ghosts away from his heart and across his chest to the sparse patch of hair peeking over his collar.

Sometimes when god closes a door, she opens a window.

You run your fingers delicately through Jay's coarse chest hair; threading the tip of your index finger just under the cotton fabric. Your leg tenses around his thigh as you smooth the pads of your fingers up to his neck. Jay's strong pulse pushes back gently against your sensitive fingertips.

The persistent thrum of his heartbeat floods your ears. 

_Or is that your heartbeat?_

You move your fingers away from his neck and the beat continues on in your own body. Your fingers find his pulse point again and…

_They're the same._

Both of Jay's arms pull you into a crushing hug. He holds you so tight it's hard to breathe. You mutter into his chest:

"Jay?! You awake...? uh… _buddy?"_

"Oh shit," he yawns as he stretches out on the mattress. "We're 'buddies' now? Damn." Jay loosens his hold around you and you roll into your back next to him. "When did that happen?" 

You look straight up at the ceiling. 

"Sorry about that. I don't really know what I should… uh… _call_ you. I guess. Cause we're not dating. But we _are_ married. And we're not sleeping together, but we did just sleep together. So... I'm not... I don't know what's happening," you confess.

"Well… first off, good morning," Jay chuckles. You roll your eyes even though you know he can't see them.

"Good morning to you too, jackass."

His laughter fills the quiet room and you can't help but smile. 

"As much as I hate to say this, Jay: _'We need to talk.'_ "

"I know. And that's fine. But how about after pancakes? Fresh _blueberry_ pancakes?"

"If you are trying to butter me up with your delicious breakfast food..."

"The butter _is_ great, it's French…"

"...goddamn it, let me talk," you grumble. 

Jay chuckles lightly, but keeps his mouth shut. You pull away from his embrace and hold yourself up at his side with your left hand on the mattress. 

"I'm serious, Jay..." you start as you get yourself situated. You glance over at him and the world falls out from under you. 

He's tucked his left arm behind his head; every muscle effortlessly poised to perfection. Jay's shaggy hair tussles out over the pillow and hangs down over his right eyebrow. He smiles up at you and his teeth nip softly into his bottom lip. His bright eyes shine like sea glass in the early morning light of his bedroom. 

"I…"

Jay's eyebrow slowly rises as you continue to be at a complete loss for words.

"I…"

"...Could use some breakfast?" Jay tries.

You immediately smack him on the chest.

"Don't try to fluster me with your handsomeness and your pancakes!" you shout before poking him repeatedly on the stomach. He reaches down to shield his tummy from your barrage.

"Owie! God! Ahh! Stop!! Ouch! Fine!" he giggles. "I promise! Ouch! After breakfast!"

You continue to jab at his stomach and ribs as he tries to flinch away.

"DURING breakfast!" you counter.

"Ouch! Okay! Deal!!" He smiles wide and grabs both of your hands on his chest. He squeezes them assuringly before moving to get it out of bed.

"Let's at least get some coffee first, huh?" 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You stand in the kitchen as Jay gathers all the ingredients for pancakes including a package of fresh blueberries. 

Neither of you have said a word since leaving his bedroom. 

Jay grabs two green coffee mugs from the cabinet and pours you a fresh cup. You hold the warm beverage in front of your nose and smell the heavenly aroma. Jay takes his first sip and you pounce.

"So what are we?"

He coughs into his coffee, but manages to keep everything in his mouth. He swallows hard and tries to recover. 

“You had some coffee, so now talk,” you declare. 

Jay clicks his tongue once and smiles at you. 

“Well you’re not wrong,” he admits before taking another sip.

“Jay, I’ve had a rough couple days, okay? I like you, I do. But I need to know what’s happening here.”

Jay sighs and swirls his coffee around the mug. 

“I’m…. not… good... with, uh.. talking... about how I feel,” Jay admits.

“No shit.”

Jay’s face shines with a half-smile as he huffs out a laugh. 

“So you’ve picked up on that, huh?”

“Eleven years ago, yeah. And then Thursday night. I had really hoped you’d gotten better about that.”

“Me, too,” Jay sighs. “But I’m not.” He takes a calming breath and stares down into his large glass mixing bowl. 

“You told me you were... interested... in me and I couldn’t deal with it. I panicked and ran. And I’m an idiot who sucks because that was a really shitty thing to do to you. 

“I was freaked out because I… I… _fuck_. Shit. Sorry.” 

Jay’s lips are back on the coffee mug. He takes two more gulps before inhaling sharply. His shoulders bunch up to his ears. Jay’s eyes bore into the glass mixing bowl in front of him. 

“I... Uh... I like... you too,” he breathes. 

...

“You talking to the flour?” you tease. 

“Goddamn it,” Jay laughs and shakes his head. “No, not the damn flour!” He runs both palms down his beard and gazes up at the ceiling with a long groan. 

When his hands finally reach his neck, he drops them both and turns to face you properly. The tops of his cheeks shine like two cherry tomatoes.

“I like you.” 

Your heart soars into the sun.

“Was that so hard?” you sass as you lean against the dishwasher. 

“YES!” he chuckles loudly. “Very literally - YES!” 

He turns back to his ingredients; cracking two eggs on the counter and emptying their contents into the bowl. He grabs a whisk from the drawer and mixes everything together with a skilled hand. 

“How could I _not_ like you?” he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

You want to pounce him where he stands and shower him with blueberries and kisses... 

“But if I…. _if we…_ if this becomes ‘real,’ I’m _going_ to fuck it up. That’s not some bullshit paranoid fear of mine; that’s just a fact.”

_Goddamn it._

He lets go of the whisk and bowl and sets both hands on the edge of the kitchen island. 

“I can't even make sense of what I feel half of the time. I’m just this jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings; it’s like a swarm of pissed-off bees in my head. It’s confusing as hell and exhausting to deal with; even for me. 

“I just fucking shut down when things get real. And I don’t want to…. I don…” 

Jay balls his hands into fists on the countertop.

“I **_won’t_** put you through that,” he says conclusively. He looks up at you and his eyes soften. 

“But If you’re really okay with keeping it light like you said… I think I can do that.”

You walk to the corner of the kitchen island and spread your hands out wide, leaning over the butter and blueberries as you postulate your response. 

“So what would that look like to you? Keeping things ‘light’?” 

Jay grabs a hand towel out of the drawer near the sink and throws it over his shoulder. He bites his lip adorably as he looks up to the kitchen’s overhead light. 

“Like you said. Nothing big and official. But, like... visiting each other, talking, texting, all that. It sounds good to me,” he shrugs.

“What about sex?” you ask simply. 

Jay’s eyes go wide and his face flashes red before he slaps both hands over his face. 

“Oh my god!” he laughs. He holds on to the countertop as his head hangs down to his chest. His long hair covers all of his face and he speaks directly to the floor. “Uh… I… um… _Well… Uh…_ oh my god… I, uh… _I guess…_ uh…”

You cross your arms over your chest and wait for him to collect himself. 

“... um… I..."

...

"I…. Well… I, uh... I guess….. Uh…"

_This could take a while._

“Do you want to have sex with other people?” you try.

Jay flips his head up to face you and his hair flies back like a damn shampoo commercial. 

“No! Absolutely not," he replies with a sour face. His eyes fall to your lips for a moment before falling back down to the ingredients on the kitchen island. "I’m only… uhmm… _interested…_ in you."

You nod your understanding and continue on.

“And would you be okay with me having sex with someone else?” 

“I…. would... n’t. …. Uh… I would, um… prefer…it… if, uh... if that was … a… no,” he stumbles. 

“So casual but exclusive? I can accept that,” you smirk. 

“Is that a thing?” Jay asks timidly. 

“There’s a million different kinds of relat… _arrangements_ Jay. We just gotta find what works for both of us,” you assure him.

He seems fairly pleased with that answer, smiling comfortably at you from across the island. He grabs the coffee from the counter and you wait patiently for him to take that next warm, delicious sip…

“So when are we going to fuck?” 

Not only does a great, brown cloud of coffee erupt from Jay’s mouth -spraying the pancake mix, blueberries, and French butter- he also fumbles the coffee mug; spilling the rest of its contents down his shirt before it crashes into the ground. Jay reaches to catch it, coughing and cursing all the while. The cup bounces once against the wood floor before he manages to nab it. He shoots back upright holding the cup upside down with both hands and his wide eyes find yours. Coffee dribbles down his bearded chin and down the front of his shirt.

You’d love to break into uproarious laughter, but something in Jay’s expression leads you to believe that now’s not the time. Still, you do smile brightly at him before moving to pull another kitchen towel out of the drawer. You help mop up the coffee on the countertop, washing off the blueberries and dabbing coffee droplets off of the butter. Jay soaks up the puddle on the floor and you meet at the kitchen sink. 

“Sorry, about that, Jay. I was trying to be funny. ‘Light, flirty fun,’ and all that.”

“Oh no… no, I get it. It was… yes… it was funny. It was. Just unexpected. I don’t know if I… well… I don’t know when I’d be ready… I’m… with the … uh.. With the _intim…_ Uh… Maybe go... um, slow... on that front... I guess” he stutters; his eyes keenly focused on the bottle of dish soap next to the sink. 

“How about we hold off for a while?” you suggest. You nudge him playfully with your hip. “Go slow? Maybe wait until after we’re divorced to start casually dating?” you smile. 

Jay’s head collapses down on his chin as he laughs loudly. “Yeah,” he nods. “Slow. That sounds perfect.”

His happy laughter is infectious and you join in easily.

"I should probably get back to cooking," Jay offers.

"I'd like that," you agree. "But you might want to…" You point at his coffee-drenched shirt. 

"Oh! Yeah. Right. I'll go get one from the dryer. I'll throw yours in there too," he smiles. He turns to head down the hall and you grab his hand.

"Actually… I was thinking. Could I help you with that?"

"With laundry?" he questions.

"Kinda, yeah," you smirk. You run your hand down the front of his wet shirt and take a gentle hold of the bottom hem. You pull it up by an inch and wait for permission. 

Jay's eyes dart down and a deliciously bashful smile appears on his face.

"If you'd… want… to… do… that… yeah," he agrees. 

"How could I _not_ want to do that?" you reply incredulously. 

Jay turns to face you and you use both hands to grasp his simple gray t-shirt. 

"Arms up," you instruct him. Jay obeys immediately, holding his arms over his head and watching you with interest.

You tug the cotton fabric over his stomach, up to his chest, and finally over his head. 

You drop the forgotten garment on the ground and stand before a shirtless Jay Bauman. 

Your hands spread wide over his chest and you can feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingertips. You breathe in deeply and the breeze from your exhale makes his hair flutter across your hand.

The sparse hair along his collar line thickens dramatically it stretches over his pectorals and down his trunk. Your hands move in tandem over his chest, parting the dark hair with each finger. His dusty rose nipples tighten under your gentle touch.

Jay's arms come to rest at his sides and he watches your enraptured eyes survey his frame. 

"You… you're so beautiful," you breathe. You observe the muscles of his stomach flex as he laughs softly. 

"I guess we..." he starts softly, "...should probably talk about kissing, then."

"What do you…" 

You glance up at Jay and see him studying your face; your nose, cheekbones, and finally your lips.

Somehow, with all of the defining of terms in your budding non-relationship with Jay, you forgot that you'd actually be able to...

_Oh..._

“Would you like to kiss me?” you ask with a tentative smirk. Jay takes a breath and nods quickly. 

“Yeah. Yes… yes, please,” he replies. You wait for him to move toward you, but he doesn’t take a step. 

_You might have to meet him more than halfway here._

You take a deep breath and smile sweetly at him, taking one small step closer. You tilt your head and wet your lips enticingly just inches from his. Your eyes flutter shut as Jay finally moves forward and presses his lips to yours. 

The dam keeping back a decade of desire shatters in an instant. It’s like everythi…

_The fuck?_

**It’s over!?!**

Your eyes shoot open again and Jay’s already moving away. 

Jay watches your expression and you try your best to not let your confusion and disappointment be too apparent on your face. 

_It’s fine. You’re fine._

Jay’s taking a first step here and you want to be encouraging. If he wants to start out with a tiny peck on the lips, you’ll absolutely respec…

Jay exhales before delicately cupping your face with both hands. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer and lingering. You suck gently on his plump bottom lip before he opens his mouth by a sliver to meet your tongue with his own. 

Your hand spreads out over his broad, hairy chest as the kiss continues. His mustache tickles your nose as his breath rolls against the delicate skin of your cheek. The warm, wet feel of his mouth is intoxicating. A low moan escapes from the back of your throat. 

Jay pulls away quickly and the spell is broken.

_Shit._

_If this ‘taking it slow’ thing is going to work, you gotta be less OVERTLY horny around him._

You open your eyes again to see Jay smiling shyly, his rosey pink cheeks plainly visible through his thick beard. You both giggle like awkward schoolkids before Jay diverts his gaze to the floor. 

He looks back up at you through his eyelashes and you find yourself lost again in those gorgeous green eyes. Both of your smiles fade when Jay peers down at your swollen lips. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears like a war drum. 

Jay's mouth crashes to yours and his arms wrap tightly around your back. Your breasts collide with his bare chest, forcing the air out of your lungs. 

_Fuck breathing._

You throw your arms around his shoulders; threading your fingers into his long hair.

Your mouth opens to him and his pink tongue plunges past your lips. You meet his passion with equal force; rolling your tongue against him and panting into his mouth. 

He backs you into the counter near the kitchen sink. You whimper sweetly when his hard cock presses against the front of your borrowed pajama pants. He growls low before his hands reach down to the meaty flesh just under your ass and kisses down your cheek to your neck before taking a long, suckling bite. 

"Fuck!" you gasp. You pull the hair at the back of his head and wrap your right leg around his hips. "Harder," you plead. Jay smiles against your moist skin before sinking his teeth into your neck. 

"Oh, god, that's so fucking perfect," you moan breathlessly. 

Jay hikes you up over the counter ledge. Your heel digs into his lower back, dragging the fabric of his pants down as you pull him closer. His erect cock presses hard against your wet panties and the pleasure is nearly blinding white. 

"Wait, stop!" you yelp.

Jay immediately tears his hands away from you and takes a step back. Every muscle in his chest and stomach is pulled taut as he tries to catch his breath. He looks at you with as much concern as he can muster.

"You said you wanted to go slow, right?"

"Yeah. I'm m.. sorry… god," he pants. "Shit… uh…." Jay gulps and tries to shake his head clear.. "That… man… that got.. outta…"

He has to hold on to the kitchen island and bend at the waist to get his breathing back to normal. You slink down off of the countertop and try to calm yourself.

"Sorry… uh…" he breathes. "It's… been a while… didn't mean to…"

"It's fine," you try. Your mouth goes dry and you lick your lips. 

_Fuck… fuck your lips taste like him._

Like Jay’s black coffee, but with a subtle salty-sweetness that makes your head swim.

You try to push the thought away. 

"Just gotta… yeah… okay… uh…" Jay babbles.

"Gotta make some breakfast and head out to Chicago. For my pants. And.. uh… to clear out my fridge, maybe."

Jay wets his lips and his eyes shoot back to yours; his pupils blown so wide they look black.

"Gotta keep it light, flirty fun," you remind him. "Gonna get on that divorce train. Just gotta be light, funny fun times until we figure this shit out."

"Right!" he answers. "Right. Absolutely." He rests his balled fists on his hips and bends over at the waist, trying to hide his very obvious erection. "You're… yep. Totally right."

You both nod at each other nervously from opposite sides of the kitchen island for ten whole seconds. 

"Well I should get a shirt on… so… I'm gonna… just… uh.. just go… upstairs and… go get that," he explains.

"Right. Absolutely. Good. Sounds good. I'll... uh… just get the table set and start the bacon, then."

Without another word, Jay turns around sharply and bolts from the kitchen. 

Over the next fifteen minutes, you set the table, cook the bacon, clean the floor, and pour yourself a glass of orange juice.

Jay finally comes back to the kitchen, looking calm and refreshed with a head full of soaking wet hair.

"How's about that breakfast?" he smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a kiss! Oh thank god!


	22. Saturday, September 19th 2020 9:27am - Chicago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Head back home for clothes

Jay’s pancakes are delicious, of course. You shovel your fair share into your mouth over the next thirty minutes. Some of it is hunger, some of it is because they taste amazing, and a damn good portion of it is you trying to avoid discussing the erection in the room…. 

_Damn it…_

…the **elephant** in the room. 

When the silence starts to become unbearably awkward, you clear your throat. Jay sneaks a glance at you before looking right back down at his empty plate. 

“Okay. So that happened,” you say simply. 

Jay swirls a puddle of syrup and melted butter with his knife. 

“And that’s fine,” you declare. “We just got a little excited and that’s okay,” you assure him. You can make out Jay’s smile even though his face is focused entirely on his plate. 

“So… no sex until divorce?”

Jay looks up at you and nods his agreement. 

“How do you feel about that?” you press.

His eyes peer straight up, then to the left and right as he attempts to come up with something to say. He fails miserably, and twenty whole seconds pass in silence. Jay’s shoulders sink down into the chair. He’s trying to put on a happy face, but you see real frustration and hurt behind his failing smile. 

“So this is what you were talking about with the ‘shutting down when things get real,’ stuff yesterday?” 

Jay points at you and winks: “That is correct.”

“Well shit. You’re right. This does suck,” you smile warmly at him, but his eyes fall back down to his syrupy plate. You reach over the table and take a light hold of his hand. 

“But we gotta go to Chicago today. I’ll get packed up quick at my apartment and then how about we go to lunch? I’ll take you to SoFo Tap. They have a great patio and every bartender is a burly gay guy. They’ll love you.”

“I do appeal to a certain demographic,” Jay giggles. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen your comments section," you laugh. “How about it?”

“That sounds nice,” he agrees as he stands up and pushes his chair away. “I’ll get these dishes in the washer and then we can take off.” He grabs his plate with one hand and yours in the other and heads toward the sink. 

You catch up to him before he has a chance to set the plates down. 

“Jay?” you becon. He turns around, balancing the sticky cutlery on both plates and looks at you. 

You rest your hands on his bearded cheeks and place a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyebrows arch up to his hairline, but his eyes close all the same. You run your tongue where his lips meet, delving inside just enough to taste him again. You pull away to run your nose along the edge of his mustache and the scratchy feeling makes you giggle. 

You force yourself to step back. Jay’s beaming smile lights up the room. 

“See,” you laugh. “We can do this.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jay made good on his promise to wash and dry your salsa-stained shirt. You change back into your clothes from yesterday, taking a moment to breathe in the new scent of Jay’s fabric softener on your top. 

You’re back on the road just after ten and back to your place a little before noon. Jay takes the grand tour of your tiny apartment in less than a minute. He holds himself in the doorway when you show him your bedroom, nodding his understanding from the hall. 

You tell Jay to take a seat on your couch while you get your bag packed. He immediately makes himself comfortable and pulls out his phone. 

You open your fridge and make sure there’s nothing too perishable on the shelves. Anything that might turn in the next week gets tossed in the trash. You move to your bedroom and pack a week’s worth of clothes into your duffle bag. Your spare laptop charger and one more for your phone are added before you zip the bag shut. Jay’s Fangoria-wrapped birthday present sits on the edge of your desk. 

You gather up the duffle as well as Jay’s gift before walking to the living room. Jay looks up at you with a content grin:

“Ready to go?” he asks happily. 

You hold out the present for Jay and a sassy Freddy Krueger winks at him from the cover. 

“What’s this?” Jay asks. 

“It’s your birthday present,” you explain. “I told you about it a few days ago. I was going to give it to you when you came to visit me, but you’re kind of visiting now. So here you go.” 

Jay takes hold of the album and marvels at the paper. 

“Is this…. ? Wait… what is this?” he puzzles. 

“It’s a Fangoria, but don’t worry, it was water damaged and falling apart. I didn’t pay sixty bucks to ruin a mint copy or anything.”

“Oh good. Cause these are super rare and really sought-after,” he explains. 

“I know.” You smile and give him a small peck on the cheek. “So are you.”

“I…um…uh...” he blushes. 

“Just open it, weirdo.”

Jay hides his smile in his shoulder before holding the present up to eye-level. He examines every cut-out on the paper, pointing out the stunt doubles from _Nightmare on Elm Street 5_ and naming every special effect guy he can find. 

“The twelve-year-old in me is kind of dying right now, but you’re really pretty, and I want to do what you say.” Jay takes another moment to appreciate the paper before taking a big breath and ripping it away.

The happy skeletons on the album cover seem to look up from their party to greet him. 

"Is… is this original?" he inquires. His face gives away nothing of what he's feeling.

"Oh, no. Sorry. I figured you probably already owned that. This is the limited-edition orange vinyl pressing."

Jay drops the Fangoria paper on the floor and reaches into the album sleeve. He pulls out the bright orange LP with the very tips of his fingers and holds it up to your overhead light like he's examining a rare jewel. The bright color reflects onto his skin, bathing his face with an otherworldly glow.

"I thought you could do something cool with it," you tell him. "Maybe put it in a frame? But feel free to stick it on the shelf with your othe…"

"Yeah," Jay says simply. "It's… it's… uh..." He sleeves the record and swallows hard. He looks at the album with glassy eyes. "It's great," he concludes. 

You’re getting more accustomed to Jay’s mannerisms, but a strange thought occurs to you as he carefully examines his present. 

"Huh," you huff. "That's interesting."

Jay looks up at you with an unreadable expression. "What is?" 

You point to the album in his hands.

"It's just that I actually don't know a lot about Oingo Boingo. How is this album compared to their other stuff?" 

"Well I'm not a big music guy,” Jay prefaces. “But I think it's perfect. I mean, some of their earlier music is more experimental, which I love. Like _Nothing to Fear_ is really punk-rock. But _So-Lo_ has some great synth music. And _Boi-Ngo_ is later, but it's really fun with this ska kind of feel. 

"But this is the album where they really became iconic. The big song from this is _Weird Science._ So awesome. Synthy/pop-ish but super weird. It's one of my all-time favorites. You can really start to hear Danny Elfman's signature in here."

"That's fantastic! I'm glad," you tell him honestly. Jay smiles bright and sets the album down on your coffee table. You decide to test your theory with a hypothetical question:

"And how would you feel if I told you that I drove around town with you on my mind, trying to find you the perfect present, just because seeing you smile makes me happy?"

Jay runs his hand through his hair at his temple. 

"I’d uh… uh… say that's…. That's really… nice. I... I mean… you… you know, you…. You shouldn't… uh, feel like you have to…”

…

You don't interrupt or offer an easy way out. _You want to see all of this play out._

...

"I'm sure you have other things… like more pressing things… to… uh, to do," Jay continues.

"But, you know… if that's, um... what you wanted to… uh, do. And… Oh shit! I forgot to… to say thanks. Thank you. That was… nice. 

"Like if you … if you weren't doing … at that time… that was nice of you. To, to uh… to think of me… And to get that. For me."

_Fascinating._

Seems like as long as you stick to movies, music, or inanimate objects, Jay's perfectly able to express himself. 

_Just gotta keep it light._

"I swung by a record store on the way home," you assure him.

"Oh good. That's good," he says before taking a deep breath.

"Well I have everything I need clothes-wise. I'll just grab some of my own deodorant. Not that 'Nana Bauman's' Lady's Speed Stick didn't get the job done, but I should probably get something a bit less expired." 

"I'll take that as a personal slight against my family, but okay," Jay chuckles. “Do you need anything from your bedroom?"

“You mean like my handcuffs or the leather corset?” you wink. 

Jay’s face goes pink and he hides his smile with both hands. 

“I meant like a pillow or something,” he finally clarifies. 

"Nah, I'll be fine. You're a much better pillow than anything I have here."

He grins adorably. "Glad I could help."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I tried this morning, but then you really did distract me with pancakes and handsomeness," you smile.

Jay looks nervous again, but you wrap your fingers around his and hold them tight. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

He looks down at your joined hands and cracks a crooked smile. “Any time.”

"Soooo… does that mean you'll be my pillow again tonight?" you ask with hopeful eyes.

Jay lets go of your hand before reaching up to run his thumb over your bottom lip and tip your head up to meet him. He surveys your eyes for a long moment before moving closer and whispers against your cheek: 

"Tonight, and every night you'll let me, Cherry Girl."

Every ounce of blood in your body rushes straight to your center. You close your eyes before Jay kisses you softly on the cheek.

When you're finally able to open your eyes again, Jay's adorkably shy smile is the first thing you see. He brushes his long hair back from his face with his left hand and looks to the floor.

"Light, fun, flirty… right? Was that okay?"

"Um… wow. Yeah. Yes. That was perfect," you smile. You blow out hard and try to regroup. "I just gotta change real quick and then we can go get some lunch."

Jay stays exactly where he is as you take your bag back into your room. 

As soon as the door closes, you tear off your jeans and damp panties. You pull on a new set and shove an extra five pairs of underwear into your bag. 

_If Jay keeps doing that kinda shit, you're going to soak through at least two pairs a day._ Better to be prepared. 

You take a series of deep breaths. 

_You can do this… You can do this…. Probably. You can probably do this._

You leave your apartment together a few minutes later, tossing your old leftovers in the trash on the way out.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

SoFo Tap is as lovely as ever. The bar doesn't have its own kitchen, but three to four food trucks are always parked outside. 

You and Jay collect a wide assortment of food from the different vendors including kabobs, rosemary curly fries, flatbread pizza, and fish tacos and make a plan to grab gelato from the last truck on the way out. 

The crowd at the bar today is sparse, giving you the pick of any table on the ivy-covered back patio. 

You both leave your cell phones face down and enjoy each other's company over the next hour. Jay sips on a light beer as you tell him how you got started at Buzzfeed and the first time you met Will. You enjoy a glass of sparkling wine while he talks about some Red Letter episodes that never made it to air. 

You pay the tab once Jay finishes off the last of the tacos. He checks his phone while you toss the paper plates and used napkins into the garbage. You both walk through the bar to head back to your car. 

“Oh wow,” he chirps as he reads his latest message. He glances over to you and raises an eyebrow in an adorably mischievous display. 

“Whats up?” you ask him.

“I actually have a favor to ask of you,” he smiles. He nibbles his bottom lip hard and you have to remind yourself to wait and actually hear what the favor is before agreeing. 

_He can never know how persuasive his lip nibbling is._

“What do you have in mind?” you ask.

“Mike says the Pfister Hotel will let us film there. Tomorrow.” He looks positively thrilled. 

You smile back at him and shrug your shoulders. “I have no idea what that means, Jay. But if you’re excited, that’s great.”

“Oh, shit! I didn’t tell you about any of that, did I?” Jay realizes. “I pitched the idea you had about us doing a kind of Zak Bagans _Ghost Hunters_ spoof to Mike. He fucking **loved** it. He actually reached out a couple of supposedly haunted places around Milwaukee. We thought for sure everyone would turn us down. 

"The Pfister is this beautiful old hotel that's kinda famous for being haunted. We filmed some of _Space Cop_ there. I guess they're hoping to get some free publicity, so they're letting us film one of the Presidential suites.”

“Wow! That’s wonderful! Congrats!” you tell him. “But what do you need from me?” 

“They’re letting us shoot, but it’s _tomorrow_. Mike and I will probably be using the smaller hand-helds and cell phones for the bit. We need to get wide shots of both of us and b-roll.”

Your eyes almost fall out of your head. 

“And… ? Wait! You want ME to help?” you ask. “But I don’t know… I mean, don’t you want like Rich or Josh or Jack to do that?”

“Josh and Zoe out of town. Rich actually lives outside Chicago and needs more notice than that to drive up and spend all day here. Jack’s pretty busy with his own channel and his family, but he might be able to help. We need someone who can be there the whole time.”

“So just me, you, and Mike in a haunted hotel room for hours?”

“Oh… yeah…” Jay scrunches up his face and clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “That does sound like the set up for the world’s worst porno.” 

“Eh,” you shrug dismissively. “I’d watch it.” 

Jay looks at you like a disappointed mom. 

“I’m KIDDING!” you laugh. You cough lightly into your hand: “Half-kidding anyways.”

“I heard that,” Jay snickers. “But will you help us?” 

“Of course!” you answer happily. “That would be fucking amazing, Jay! I mean, I’m not sure how good a job I can do, but I’ll give it my best. I’d love to help you.”

You step out of the bar’s entrance onto the sunny sidewalk and Jay grins wide. His long hair is swept up in a breeze as he pops on his sunglasses.

"I'm sure you'll be great," Jay beams. "I'll let Mike know." He fires off a quick text as you walk to the last food truck.

He orders a coffee-flavored gelato with caramel drizzle. Jay offers you a taste and you take it gladly. The creamy smooth dessert is a spoonful of heaven.

You spot a bright reflection in the lenses of Jay's sunglasses and wonder who on earth that shining, radiant woman could be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think they can keep it "light, flirty fun?"


	23. Saturday, September 19th 2020 3:07pm - The Studio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay takes you by the studio again.

The remainder of Saturday has been wonderful. Jay drives back to Milwaukee in no hurry, allowing you to ask more questions about his family. He shares a few stories about corrupting his younger siblings with horror movies when they were kids. His little sister has sworn off all scary movies ever since. 

“You made her watch _Child’s Play_ when she was _eight_?! Oh that poor little girl!”

“She microwaved all of my Ninja Turtles the next day, so I think we’re even,” he retorts. 

Jay decides to swing by the studio to give you a walk through on some of the cameras so you’re ready for tomorrow’s ghost hunt. He leads the way upstairs to the staff break room on the second floor.

“I totally forgot that you had an upstairs here,” you laugh. 

“That’s actually one of the reasons we got this place,” he explains as he opens a door on the left. “We needed a lot more space for the collection.”

Your eyes have no time to adjust to the pitch-black chamber. Jay reaches in to flip on the overheard light and you're transported. 

It’s the viewing room. THE viewing room. Every square inch of every wall is covered with VHSs. 

_Hold your breath._

_Make a wish._

_Count to three._

Len Kabasinski movies sun themselves along the shore of a winding river of post-apocalyptic Italian _Mad-Max_ knockoffs. Flowers made of mid-90’s instructional videos bloom along the walls. The towering _Nukie_ tree watches over the schlock garden, swaying gently in the breeze. 

And in the center of it all is Jay in an orange tophat and purple velvet suit coat. 

_Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination…_

He jumps on to the cap of a Neil Breen mushroom and holds his hand out for you to join him. You grab hold and he sweeps you off of the ground, singing softly against your cheek:

_We’ll begin with a spin,_

_traveling in a world of my creation._

_What we see will defy explanation..._

“Hey. You okay? You wanted an explanation of the camera, right?”

“What?!?” you snap. The VHS river is gone, replaced by the usual red viewing couches. Jay’s standing next to you with a huge black camera bag slung over his shoulder. “Oh. yeah. Okay. That sounds good.”

“Do you want to see all the movies?” Jay offers. “There’s this room and then the next one over. Rich and Jack used to do Pre:Rec there, but we’ve kinda taken over the space since they stopped. I can show you anything you want.”

“I would love that, but it’s business before pleasure. I want to make sure I do this right for you,” you insist. 

"You won't have to worry about choosing lenses or picking up audio, but it would be good for you to know how to frame up a shot, take light levels, and do a white balance," Jay says matter-of-factly. He sets it down on the coffee table and removes an extremely expensive-looking camera from a huge black storage case.

"Wow, Jay. I'm not sure I should be trusted with a camera that costs more than my car," you announce nervously on your way to the couches. 

"It's fine. Don't worry," he assures you. He holds out the camera and you try to take it with jittering hands.

"You're _clearly_ worrying," Jay says with a smirk. He holds the camera down at his side and waits patiently. 

"That’s a super delicate piece of equipment…. I presume.” Your eyes go wider as you try to explain just how bad an idea this is. “I could break it!" 

"You won't."

"I might."

Jay rolls his eyes dismissively and reaches for your hand. He pulls it up to chest level before setting the camera on top of your palm. 

"You won't break it," he smiles. "I trust you."

You take a deep breath and grab a hold of the handle on top of the camera. Jay flashes a confident smile and it looks fucking _amazing_ on him. He tucks his hair back behind his ear and watches you closely. 

The camera is actually much lighter than it looks. It’s covered with buttons of every shape and size on both sides with outputs and inputs placed seemingly at random. You know it’s not quite movie-studio-level, but it’s still damn impressive. 

"See. You got it,” Jay smiles encouragingly. “Let’s sit down and I’ll run through everything.” 

Jay spends the next hour showing you the basics of camera and tripod operation, which batteries go to which camera (they’re all color-coded, thank god), and some of the basics of shot-framing. 

It's… _a lot._

"You can't make a mistake, I promise," Jay assures you. 

"I'm pretty sure I can," you laugh.

"Just make sure it’s on and it’s recording and it will be fine. If you don't get a shot in focus or you run into a wall or something, it would actually work well for the bit," Jay declares. You burst into laughter. 

"If I _'run into all wall'?!_ " you cackle. "Thanks for the _huge_ vote of confidence."

"I'm just saying don't worry too much,” Jay laughs. “If you make mistakes, it'll just make it look more authentic. Those ghost shows are all shot really terribly.”

“Oh right! Yeah, that’s true. I think I can handle ‘terribly shot,’ if that’s what you need,” you joke. “And you’re basically George Romero with the editing, right? Like even if I suck at this, you can piece something good together ala _Dawn of the Dead_?”

Jay considers this for a moment and shrugs almost imperceptibly. “If that helps you relax, sure, I’ll be your Romero,” he smiles. 

He shows you how to pack up the camera and cords before he zips up the case.

When he picks the bag up to get it back to the storage room, his pale arms flex tight under his thin shirt. He runs his hand through the front of his hair and smiles sweetly. Jay sets the bag outside near one of the break room tables and you get a perfect view of him walking away. 

_God, is every pair of jeans he owns amazing?_

Oh shit. 

_You’re alone at the studio with Jay and he looks like a goddamn snack._ You don’t want a repeat of this morning. Actually, you do. More than anything. Just to have him bite down onto your neck again and grind into yo….

_Gotta distract yourself. Keep it light._

"How did you learn all of this?” you ask him through the doorway. 

"I went to school for it for a while,” he replies on his way back to the room. “But I learned more by making my own movies than from two years of college."

"When did you start doing all of this, anyways?”

"Making movies?” Jay smiles as he takes a hold of the back of the smaller couch on your left. “When I was ten, my parents got me my own camera for my birthday. I just made stupid stuff with my friends and family, but it got me hooked. I started making full-length movies with my friends when I was in high school and basically never stopped."

"That's so cool,” you reply happily. “I wish I could have grown up like that; with a big circle of people that made movies. Just being a bunch of kids and learning how to write or direct together. Even acting. God, that would have been so fun."

"Why don't you do it now?" Jay inquires.

"Nah, it's too late for me. My friends have bridal showers and mortgages now. I'll leave the movie making to the professionals and to the high school dreamers. It would have been really nice back then, though," you say on your way up from the couch. 

Jay furrows his brow in thought. "Uh… yeah,” he replies distractedly. He seems to come back to his senses and smiles softly. “We had our stupid little dramas every now and then, but it was pretty great."

You follow Jay back out to the break room and he grabs several more large bags from a small closet across the way. You look through the office fridge as Jay packs up the bags and sets a few extra battery packs up to charge on the counter in the breakroom. When everything is set for tomorrow, he slaps the metal countertop. 

“How would you like to see the entire Red Letter Media library?”


	24. Saturday, September 19th 2020 10:18pm - Jay's Couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find an interesting work-around.

It's later evening by the time you get back to Jays house. You talked for hours about all of the movies in the collection, and all of the weird fan art they have on the shelves. The home-made action figures and needlepoint; all of the rare memorabilia people have sent them. The items might not show up in their videos, but everything is lovingly displayed around the studio.

After grabbing dinner in Oak Creek, you both settle down on the couch for an evening of intense research. Jay changes into his navy and gray striped lounge shorts and settles comfortably into his spot on the end of the couch. He again takes your ankles and holds them near his chest; writing into a small notebook with his right hand. 

“See, they always do the stupid video testimonial from someone saying they have a haunting. And then they do the sitting-down during the day talking about ghosts part. Then it’s walking around with bullshit equipment asking ghosts dumb questions in the dark.”

You’re five episodes in and Jay’s already reaching his limit. 

_He’s so cute when he gets all huffy about the camera work._

“Look! Look at that crap! What kinda shot is that?!” he points to the tv and yells. “Fuckin’ shit, man! Give a fuck about your craft, you assholes!” 

He goes back to his notes and reads them aloud.

“Okay, so overnight shooting with night-vision and thermal cam-effects. Jump scare, jump scare. Then they review all the footage and add some spooky music anytime a piece of dust passes by the lens. Wrap it all up with a ‘there’s some things that just can’t be explained’ monologue and we’re done.”

“You forgot about the interpersonal drama between investigators and the freak outs to cap the commercial breaks,” you add. 

“Shit, that’s right,” Jay replies. He writes your notes down on the paper. “I have lots of interpersonal drama with Mike,” he laughs. “About time to capitalize on it.” 

"Speaking of that," you transition as smoothly as you can muster, "You’ve never told me the story of you finding out about our drunken nuptials.”

"Oh god,” he groans. He puts the pen down on his notebook and pulls your legs closer. “Uh… I just grabbed my mail on the way to work. We're trying to reopen the merch side of things and get new content out during lockdown. And I had been a complete asshole to you the night before and Mike was yelling at me about it. But I...” 

"Wait, Mike was yelling at you about me? I thought you guys didn't discuss relationship stuff."

"Well... it's more… _I_ don't talk about relationship stuff. With anyone. He just asked when you were coming out again and I told him probably never. I explained why and he was wasn’t so much 'supportive' as 'belligerent.'” Jay says with finger-quotes. 

"So Mike stuck up for me?" 

You decide Mike might not be as bad as you thought. 

"Well he more just said I was a shitbag and an idiot and that I should apologize."

_That’s just as good._

"And I was about to call you and try to… I dunno... when I found the… uh… the marriage certificate in my mail,” he explains. “I’m still really sorry about that.”

“I know. It’s okay,” you tell him as you sit up on the couch. You nuzzle into his arm and sigh. “I could be married to far worse," you smile. “I’m still stressed about how I’m going to convince my boss to let me work from Wisconsin for a week or two, but I’ll figure it out.”

"I know you will," Jay replies. "And I'll help in any way I can." He grabs your hand, lacing his fingers between yours. 

You stay like that for a while; Jay's head resting on yours. Another episode of Ghost Whatever's ends and you look up into those beautiful green eyes.

“We better get some sleep if we’re staying up all night tomorrow.” 

“Good point,” Jay reluctantly agrees. He shuts off the lights in the living room and you both make your way upstairs. You head into the bathroom and stand in front of the sink. 

Jay grabs the toothpaste from the top drawer and dabs a dollop onto your toothbrush. He hands it to you and you smile your thanks. You watch as he loads up his toothbrush and winks at your reflection. You both scrub your teeth clean and take turns spitting into the sink. 

Jay pats his mouth off on a hand towel and glances nervously at you. 

"Would, uh.. you… do you, um.. still want me to, um…"

"I would love for you to sleep with me," you assure him. Jay smiles bashfully and tries to hide it behind the towel. 

He tosses it back on the counter and follows you into his bedroom. You turn to him at the doorway.

"But I have some ground rules," you inject.

Jay immediately nods. "Yeah. Yes. Whatever you want, that's totally fine."

“You can't wear a shirt." you declare.

"That's...how I sleep normally." Jay explains.

"I had a feeling you did."

Jay grabs the bottom of his black _Mystics in Bali_ shirt and pulls it off with one fluid motion.

You hold your hands up and rest them on either side of his neck, just above his collar bone. You try not to get too distracted, but you're only one woman and he's so deliciously fuzzy. 

Jay's crooked half-smile could light up the night sky as you run both hands down his chest. You stop before his beltline and run just your nails back up through the thick hair on his stomach. 

"Jay, I really am fine with waiting until the divorce. I think it's a good idea. But, uh… I…" You take a deep breath before pressing on: "I… _shit…_ I mean, could we at least like make out or something? It's totally fine if that's not okay. I just…"

"You want to make out with me?" Jay asks anxiously. 

You try your best to not look at him like he's a complete idiot.

"Of course I do," you laugh. "All the time. Unless you've outgrown it. Do 40-year-olds not make out anymore?"

Jay blushes in the dim light of his room. "Only one way to find out, I suppose."

You reach up to cup his face; tracing the outskirts of his mustache with your thumbs. You tilt your head to him and his hands wrap around to your hips to hold you in place. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment and studies your eyes in the pale light of the room. Jay inhales sharply and his chest broadens with every breath. 

You keep one hand placed on his bearded jawline and press the other over his heart. Your eyes flutter shut before his lips press to yours. You suck gently at his bottom lip and his mouth opens to you. His pink tongue glides against yours as he deepens the kiss and you feel his sharp nose press into your cheek.

Jay’s hair falls forward and brushes against your face. He leans away slightly and combs his hair back. 

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes. 

“ _Never_ apologize for that hair,” you smile before pulling him back down for another kiss.

His body seems to melt into yours as he pulls you closer and snakes his open palm up the back of your shirt. Your senses flood with him; the fuzzy feel of his chest, the scent of his skin, the taste of his lips. Jay pulls back and his eyebrow perks up to his golden hairline. 

"Could you… uh… maybe..? Uh… with your shirt, too... um… if you.. uh..."

"Okay," you grin before biting into your bottom lip. “But only because you asked so nicely.” You rip your top off in a blink, throwing it god-knows-where in the dark room.

Jay's fingers delicately smooth up from your hips and over your sides. He pulls you closer and wraps his hands around your back near the closure of your bra. 

"Come here," you tease as you take a step back toward Jay's mattress. He watches as you crawl under the covers. 

You pull Jay's comforter up to your neck before removing your bra. You hold it out on your finger tip before dropping it to the ground.

Jay walks toward the bed and kneels on the mattress before he speaks up again.

"I wou… We.. no, uh.. you know… we can’t… until the divorce.. annulment.. Not that I don’t want…. but you know… cause that'll just..." 

Your smile dips from lustful to a warm admiration. 

_He's respectful to a fault._

"If you don't want to, we don't have to."

His shoulders plummet and his face falls.

"I want to! I just..." His voice dies when he takes in your expectant expression.

"I-I'm sorry."

He turns away from you and walks to the black leather chair in the darkest corner of the room. He drops into the cushion and holds his head in his hands. 

You stay in Jay's bed, holding his silvery-gray comforter to your chest. 

“It’s okay. I get it. Really,” you explain. 

"I just keep… _fuck_. I'm.. god, I'm sorry," he groans. You try to squint and can barely make out his features. Jay covers his eyes and hangs his head solemnly. "I knew I’d fucking do this… I.. sorry… I should go." 

You hear him stand up and move to the door. Before doubt can enter your mind, you stand up from the bed. You cover your bare breasts against the cold of the room.

"Please don't go," you shout.

Jay turns around in the doorway and looks back to you. Moon beams drape over your skin like shimmering silk. You drop your hands to your sides and hold your head high. 

You stand bare breasted and unafraid, bathed in the cool light from the window.

"You didn’t do anything wrong and I don’t want you to go."

He turns to face you fully.

The moonlight is so bright it’s almost blinding.

Jay takes a step towards you as his eyes venture over your form.

"You…" he sighs. "Christ, you are so fucking beautiful."

Jay wrings both hands at his sides.

"I don't know if...I don't know I can' maintain...the restraint we agreed on, if I start touching you."

A breathy laugh escapes your lips and you smile wide. 

"I can work with that."

Jay flashes a crooked half-smile and sighs.

" _Really?_ ” he laughs. “You can work around me being too afraid to touch you?"

"Absolutely.”

Jay looks at you skeptically before you crawl back into his bed. You turn to face him, kneeling on top of the comforter.

Jay watches your nipples pebble in the cold air of the room and licks his lips.

"Stand right there," you say as you point to a spot on the floor directly between you and the dresser across from the bed. Jay sighs once, but does as you instruct. 

"Should I…? I don't… know what you want me to do," he questions nervously.

"Just tell me what **you** want to do," you explain. 

Jay blinks twice and scrunches his face up adorably as he tries to understand. You cock your head to the side and smile warmly.

"I'd prefer your hands on me, but if you don't feel you can trust yourself, I can do it for you," you smile. "If you weren't afraid to touch me, would you want to feel my breast?"

"Of course I would, but if I…"

Jay's voice fails as you reach up and grab your left breast with your hand. 

"Like this?" you ask. You cup your breast and massage the warm weight with your palm. He watches with wide eyes as you pinch your nipple between your middle and index fingers.

"I…. _wow…_ I… _fuck_... I'd actually..." he breathes. "I'd be more gentle."

You bite your lip as you move to hold your breast softly. You knead your flesh as Jay stares completely enraptured. His hands fidget at his sides; pinching at tugging at his striped lounge shorts. You follow along, repeating the movement of his hands on your breast. 

“Would you do anything special to my nipple?” you ask invitingly. 

Jay takes a deep breath and licks his lips. 

“Yes. I would… pinch it… just a little. And roll it between my fingers.” 

You do exactly as he says; the rosey bud tightening with every touch. 

His eyes snap up to yours.

"Yes?" you inquire sweetly. 

Jay swallows hard and gets a little braver:

"I'd be… um.. I'd be doing it to both of them."

"Damn, that’s a good idea," you answer with a grin. You run your tongue over your teeth and bring both hands up to your breasts. 

Jay’s expression darkens as he watches you with an open mouth. His deep panting is like music and you close your eyes to enjoy the heavenly sound. 

"I'd... I'd run my hands all over you," Jay instructs. You obey immediately, sending your hands roaming down to your thighs and then back up your sides until they reach into your hair. You drag your palms down your neck, over the swell of your chest, and down again; paying special attention to your breasts and hips. 

Jay watches your every movement in the bright moonlight.

"I'd make you moan," Jay growls.

You bat your eyelashes and look into his dark eyes.

"And how would you do that?"

"I'd lick my fingers and pull your panties out of the way."

"Oh, I see," you smile. "Like this?" You pull your right hand from your breast and pop your index and middle fingers into your mouth. Jay nods slowly. You swirl your fingers around your mouth and Jay adjusts his hardening cock.

A deep groan rumbles in his chest as you watch him intently; licking both of your fingertips like a lollipop.

You grab the waistline of your borrowed pajama pants and slip your wet fingers down inside of your underwear.

"Now what?" you grin wickedly.

"I would…. _Christ…. I…_ you... really don't have to."

"But I really _want_ to," you quickly reply. "You have no idea how much I want to.”

"Holy… _goddamn_ ," he curses before roughly running his fingers through the hair near his temples. 

"You're so fucking… _god…_ I'd…" Jay bites his tongue and takes a deep breath. His knuckles flash white across both clenched hands. 

"I'd lay you down in that bed and please you in every way I could think of."

Warmth foods to your center so quickly you fear you might fall over. 

"That sounds like fun," you purr.

You lay back on his fluffy gray pillows, keeping your hand down the front of your panties. 

He kneels on the floor next to you, placing his hands on the mattress near your shoulder and waist. You’re chest-high to him like this and you can feel his hot breath rolling over your breasts. 

"Normally, I'd do this by myself," you tell him as you part your folds. Jay watches your hand work under your thin flannel pants.

"Do you want me to tell you what to do?" Jay whispers. 

"Sure," you pant. Your hips roll up as your fingers delve into your dripping pussy. "Whatever you'd like."

"I want to see you cum in my bed," Jay confesses. 

Jay shivers at the sound of your slick fingers as you run tight circles over your wet clit. He balls the sheets in his fists.

You watch Jay bite hard into his lower lip as you caress your breast exactly like he said he would.

"That's _not quite_ it," he breathes.

"Do you want to show me?” 

You roll your hips against your hand before looking into his dark eyes. You suddenly feel like a ten-course meal laid out before a starving man. 

He reaches slowly up from the mattress and takes hold of the hand at your breast. He holds your fingers tenderly and pulls them up to his mouth. Jay plants a kiss on every one of your knuckles before caressing the back of your hand against his bearded cheek. 

He sets your hand down on the gray comforter and runs the pads of his fingers up over your wrist, up your forearm. He bends down and places a soft kiss to the inside of your elbow before his hand moves gently up to your shoulder. Jay's fingers wrap around your neck softly as he follows the curve of your jaw with his thumb. 

You lean into his touch and he reaches both hands up to your face. His fingers knead into your scalp just behind your ears and you completely lose yourself in the exquisite feeling. Your hand stills under your pajama pants. 

Jay's nose ghosts over your cheekbones as he inhales deeply. 

He pulls away just far enough to watch himself drag his hands around to your jawline and then down your neck to your clavicle. He gazes adoringly at your chest before the fingers on his left hand trace feather-light circles over your right breast. 

He looks down your motionless arm and gives you a disappointed tsk. Jay pushes your hair away from your ear and leans in closer. His lips brush against your earlobe as he whispers:

"If that were my hand, I'd never stop."

Goosebumps form across your skin and you shudder as Jay's tongue licks over your pulse point. 

You move your hand again, running small circles over your clit before plunging two fingers inside of your slick cunt.

His left hand plucks at your right breast, pinching the sensitive bud between his thumb and index finger and pulling gently until his fingers slip off. 

Your back arches off of the mattress as he tugs harder at your nipple. His teeth sink into your neck and you moan desperately. 

"Please get up here," you pant. "I need you." Jay pulls away and cranes his neck to see you properly.

"I don't think I should…" he starts.

"Not _all_ of you, Jay," you whimper as you hold his face with your free hand. "Just… _more_ of you. Please.”

Jay stands at the side of the bed for a moment and his prominent erection makes your mouth water. Your wet fingers keep up the rhythm against your clit as Jay moves to the foot of the bed. His eyes are locked on the rise and fall of your breasts as you writhe; your hips beckoning him closer. 

Jay crawls toward you on the bed, parting your legs and settling himself between your thighs. He holds himself up on his hands and gazes at your heaving breasts from above. His head is near your chest and his knees rest on the mattress below your ass. He listens to the heady sounds of you finger fucking your sopping wet pussy inches from his face.

"Don't stop until you cum," Jay instructs. You nod your agreement just before his mouth wraps around your left breast. He suckles intently, grazing his sharp front teeth over your nipple. 

He drops to his elbow and bites your breast nearly hard enough to bruise. The fingers of his right hand skim your left breast gently and the contrast between them makes your brain melt.

"Holy fuck!" you moan. "Oh my god!"

Jay's hands and mouth continue to play your body like an instrument. He nibbles your flesh with his teeth and cups you tenderly with his hand. You feel his hips start to grind into the mattress, searching desperately for some release. 

Your hand flutters over your clit and your back arches sharply. You scream up to the ceiling when Jay's hand rakes roughly over your breast. He reaches around and places his palm under your spine, pulling you up further as he sucks and licks at your breast. 

Every tendon in your body goes impossibly taut. Your slick coats your hand and runs down to the mattress. You bare your teeth in a feral display and thrash your hips up into Jay's body above you.

It's incredible; it's mind-blowing. But it's not enough. You're stuck on the precipice and you can't make it over. 

_Fuck!!!_

_You're so close!_

_No no no no no!_

The muscles of your legs start to quiver and cramp as pleasure turns to pain.

"Jay… I… can't! I… I can't cum. I want to so fucking bad, but I can't," you cry. 

Tears of frustration drip down from the corners of your eyes onto the pillow. Your body collapses down against the mattress and you groan desperately.

Jay's mouth pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. He gazes up at you and you try to hide your face against your shoulder.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," you pant.

"Nothing's wrong with you," Jay assures. He climbs forward, straddling your right leg as he holds himself over your upper body. He brushes your hair behind your ear and you glance up at him. He looks down at you with such reverence your heart skips. 

"Keep trying for me."

You nod slightly and resume the small circles across your swollen bud. Jays eyes close shut and he listens to your wet hand work inside your panties.

"I'm so close, Jay," you plead. "But.. I can't... it's not…" 

His lips press into yours and you open to him immediately. You reach up to cup his jaw as two thick fingers plunge into your dripping cunt.

“FUUUUCK!” you growl into Jay’s open mouth.

The stretch is intense and your hips quickly grind into his hand. He curls his fingers up toward your belly button and teases your g-spot. Your eyes roll back in your head and you moan desperately. Jay nips and licks at your bottom lip; perfectly in time with the movement of his fingers inside your pussy. 

Working in tandem, your hands bring you back to the edge in an instant. Your toes curl into knots and your back tears away from the mattress as you scream out for him. 

"Oh my god! Please don't fucking stop. Fuck that feels so fucking good! Don't sto… FUCK!!!" 

Your body finally shatters and a week's worth of frustration turns your screams into a feral roar that could wake the dead. Jay's fingers continue to plunge your depths, squelching obscenely as he draws out your orgasm.

Your body convulses as each wave of bliss tears through your body. Your fingernails dig into Jay’s scalp while you kiss him like your life depends on it. 

You pull his hand away when the pleasure becomes too much; whimpering deliriously into his mouth. 

He carefully pulls away from your panties and brings his hand up between you. Jay holds it up to the moonlight; admiring the sight of your glistening slick dripping down to his wrist. He draws the two thickest fingers closer and licks from palm to fingertip. His body shudders against you before he draws both fingers digits fully into his mouth and moans around them. 

When Jay rolls off of you and onto the mattress, your body still pulses with aftershocks.

“Fuck,” you groan. “That felt… I can't even… just... _goddamn._ ”

Jay draws his fingers out of his mouth and chuckles softly: 

“‘Good goddamn,’ or ‘bad goddamn’?” 

“Amazing goddamn.”

“Would you like me to return the favor?” you ask as you try to catch your breath. Jay rolls onto his side next to you. 

“It wasn’t a favor,” Jay smiles. 

You can see every detail of his face with perfect clarity. The small wrinkles near his eyes, the tiny scar next to his right cheek, and the exquisite overbite crafted by god herself. He is transcendent in the light of the full moon. 

Jay’s right hand begins to ghost across your bare chest and he hums a song you don’t quite recognize. 

As the euphoria of your orgasm fades, guilt rises to the surface.

"I'm sorry if that was...more than what you wanted to do" you apologize.

Jay makes a sour face.

"It was exactly what I wanted to do," he replies quickly. “I just don’t want to go too fast and complicate things. But that was really nice.”

“It was fantastic,” you smirk. “And thank you. I’m not sure if it’s the new bed, or the stress, or the audience, but I really wasn’t going to…"

“More than happy to lend a hand,” Jay smiles. “Ugh…. speaking of that…” He reaches down to adjust his rock-hard cock. ”There’s no way I can sleep like this. I gotta go… uh… _shower…_ for a little while.”

You chuckle lightly and roll onto your side to face him.

“Let me know the second when you’re ready for me to take care of that for you.”

“I will. I promise,” he beams. He cranes forward and presses his lips to yours. “Until then; I’ll be in the shower.”

“You gonna think about me?” you inquire. 

“Of course I’ll be thinking about you. Well, you or Barbra Crampton in _Re-Animator,” he teases._

You poke him in the ribs hard and he flinches away. 

“Okay, fine!” he laughs. “You AS Megan Halsey in _Re-Animator_. Deal?” 

“Deal.”

Jay climbs off of the bed and makes it to the hallway before you call out to him:

“And no shirt when you get back to bed.” 

You hear his giggles down the hall as he flips on the bathroom light. 

“Anything you want, Cherry Girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for Saturday! Did you enjoy these chapters? Gosh, I hope so! Let me know in the comments here or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/)!


	25. Sunday, September 20th 2020 9:30am - The Pfister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to film with Mike and Jay!

You wake up to the feeling of Jay's hand running through your hair. Your head is again on his chest; rising and falling with every breath. He's checking his Twitter with his right hand behind your head and absentmindedly stroking your hair with his left.

He feels you stir and turns his phone off before looking at you.

"Don't mind me," you yawn. You nuzzle into the dark hair on his chest and close your eyes again. "You just catching up with your adoring public?"

"It's mostly people asking for horror movie recommendations… or calling me an asshole," he smirks. "A few people tagging me in Mike and Shatner's squabbles. And then the usual dicks just parroting Mr. Plinkett lines."

"Living the dream," you tease.

"I suppose I am," says softly before kissing the top of your head.

You stretch out your limbs with another yawn and pull Jay closer. 

"You always smell so fucking good," you breathe against his chest.

"I'm glad you like it. I think I'll be spending much more time in the shower with you staying here."

"Sorry about that," you smile before running your hand up through his fuzzy chest hair. You massage his left peck for a moment before swirling your index finger over the very tip of his nipple. You watch it pebble slightly before a wonderful idea strikes.

Jay's right nipple is just under your chin. You move down slightly before flicking the tip of your tongue over his tightening bud. 

"Clearly, you are not sorry about that," Jay laughs. 

You bring his nipple into your mouth, sucking gently and massaging his warm flesh with your lips. Your right hand rakes through his chest hair down his small stomach to his belly button. You wrap your hand around his hip just as you bite down on the taut nipple in your mouth. 

"Fuck," Jay pants. "You know, uh… we should probably get out of bed."

"Mmmm. Yes. And get into the shower," you mumble against his chest. 

"I'd fucking love that, but don't think I can, um..." starts.

You move away and gaze up at him like he's insane.

"I'm going to get in the shower, you weirdo." You laugh brightly and Jay covers his face with one hand. You pull the collar of your shirt up and take a sniff. "It's been like two days since I've bathed and I definitely need it."

"I actually think you smell wonderful," Jay assures you as he reaches to hold your cheek. The muscles of his stomach pull tight as he arches up to kiss you. He runs his tongue over your bottom lip and hums appreciatively. "And I know you taste wonderful, too."

Your shoulders shiver at his delightful implication.

"Goddamn, Bauman." You draw your thigh up over his crotch and purr against his cheek. "You keep that up and I might start misbehaving."

Jay bites his lip enticingly and you have to fight every natural impulse in your body to move away from him.

"Towels are in the hallway. Everything else is ready for you in the shower. I bought up some of the girlier shampoos and conditioners from downstairs," he informs you with a wide smile. "I'll go start breakfast."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jay's phone rings just as you begin to clear the table. 

"... Uh, yeah. No problem. We're leaving in like ten minutes. You got all the charged batteries already? Mmmhmm... yeah… yeah. Okay, see you there."

Jay clears this throat and moves to help you load up the dishwasher.

"He's so fucking excited for this, it's ridiculous," Jay explains.

"That's actually really sweet. I think I've only time I've ever seen an authentically excited Mike was through a screen, and that was when he was screaming about there not being a demon in _Cathy's Curse."_

"Oh, shit! Right! That's true. He was pretty adamant about that," Jay laughs. 

Jay packs up a few spare batteries and you head out to the Pfister Hotel.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Mike greets you (not Jay) in the Pfister's opulent lobby. 

"Oh thank god you're here," he laughs. "Has he given you any more trouble?"

"Nope," you smile. "He's been very well behaved since you guys had your little heart-to-heart."

Mike winks once before flashing you a lovely smile. He's so fucking charming when he wants to be. 

_But you're not buying it._

You backhand his shoulder and he winces sharply.

"That's for fucking marrying me off without my goddamn permission, Mike!"

"Oww! Damn!" he tells before grabbing his aching arm. "I don't remember doing... OUCH!"

He cuts his sentence short when you snack the other arm. 

"I don't give a shit! Don't… *smack* … go around… *smack*... marrying off women… *smack*... who are… *smack*... blackout drunk!" You give him a final smack to really punctuate the point.

"Oww! Damnit! Ah! Something tells me Jay didn't get this treatment," Mike miffs. You turn to see Jay covering his laughing mouth with both hands. 

Mike rubs his tender arms as you turn back to him. 

"We talked through everything. Jay apologized and has since earned my forgiveness. You, on the other hand…"

"I'm sorry. I really am," Mike conveys sincerely. "But may I say: You're absolutely _glowing_ today. Can I assume the honeymoon is going well?" 

"Careful, Mike. You're talking to a married woman," you warn him with a smirk.

"Okay then," Mike announces. "We should get up to the Presidential Suites for set up. Jay and I will handle the initial interview.”

"She could get some daytime b-roll and establishing shots, and we'll do the tour all together," Jay adds.

Mike nods and points his thumb back behind his shoulder. "I'd like to get a bunch of footage in the basement, but we can do that any time."

Jay starts talking the second Mike finishes. "That's true. But we should wait till dark for the ballroom stuff, though."

"Right," Mike replies immediately. "I've got a rough outline for dialogue, but I figure we'll improv most of it."

"Yeah, sounds good. Let's get upstairs and tighten up the shot list. Then unpack the 4K's and do a level check," Jay says conclusively.

"I'm going to grab the keycards," Mike replies and heads for the concierge desk.

You don't hold back your impressed expression. 

"I didn't realize you were so professional," you smile.

"What?" Jay laughs and he picks up two heavy-looking camera bags and a tripod. "We always do a walk-through."

You step closer to him and whisper into his ear: "Well, it's really fucking sexy." 

Jay moans softly as you nibble his earlobe. You pepper light kisses across his cheek and move to face him. 

"You should watch me edit sometime," Jay flirts. His teeth cut into his bottom lip and you giggle brightly.

"Christ!" Mike laughs. "You two need a minute?"

Jay backs away as his cheeks go pink.

"Sorry. Yeah. I mean no! I… we… don't need a minute," Jay stutters as she hides the camera bags up on his shoulder. "Let's.. uh.. let's go."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You make for way up to Presidential Suite B and are blown away by the size and grandeur of the sprawling rooms. There's a huge living space, full kitchen, two bedrooms and a dining room with space for twelve. 

Mike and Jay run through the shot list with you and iron out the schedule. They set up the lighting rig and cameras in the dining room. 

The concierge, an older blonde man named Dennis with a square jaw and red bifocal glasses, arrives about an hour later and you make your introductions. His bespoke suit is cleanly tailored and you wonder how in god’s name he knows Mike and Jay. You shake his hand firmly before heading to the other side of the lengthy table.

"Sorry for the short notice." Dennis smiles kindly at Jay and Mike as they work on a mic stand about ten feet away.

"It's no problem," Jay laughs as he tightens the rig. "We should be out of here before midnight."

The concierge does a double take. "Oh, I… well you're more than welcome to leave tonight, but you have this suite until tomorrow at noon."

"Wait, what?" Jay yelps.

"Holy shit!" Mike laughs. 

"No one's traveling now, so we haven't had a guest in here since the Republican convention last month," Dennis explains. "Feel free to stay here, there's two bedrooms. Unless you need three beds, then you can stay in the other suite across the hall."

"That sounds amazing, but I don't know. Guys?" Mike looks to Jay and then to you across the table. "Do we need three beds?" His devilish grin continues to expand as Jay's eyes dart directly to the carpet. "Or will you two be _sharing_?"

You can see Jay's ears turning red even from a dozen feet away. 

"We… uh, I mean… not like... WE… uh.. I…"

Mike looks so happy he could explode. He holds his cheeks with both hands and watches Jay struggle. 

"Now why would you care about that, Mike?" you question with an air of saccharine sweetness. "Jay and I will be fine here without you. Your wife is waiting for you at home, isn’t she?"

Mike looks at you and narrows his eyes. "I see how it is." He gives you a respectful nod and turns to face Dennis. "The lady is correct, sir. I am expected home tonight. I'll leave my associates to determine their sleeping arrangements." 

Jay finally exhales when Mike and Dennis walk away into the living room. He finishes taping the light cords together and walks over to grab the lav mics.

"Sorry about that," he starts. "I just… I don't know how to explain… you know.. what we are… to Mike."

"It's okay," you assure him. "It's no one else's business, but I think he was more just trying to embarrass you."

"Yeah. That makes sense."

"If you guys are starting the interview now, I'm going to go outside to get all the shots you wanted. Give me a call if I'm not back by the time you need me, okay?"

"I will," he says with an adorable smile. "And thanks… for... uh… being amazing," he quietly confides. He leans over your camera case and plants a delicate kiss to your lips. 

You catch Mike watching you closely from the other room; grinning like an idiot. 

_Probably best to keep that to yourself._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The next few hours fly by. Mike sent you out with a list of about twenty shots to get for b-roll, but Jay said to go ahead and film anything else that you find interesting. 

You sweet-talked two separate businesses across the street into letting you up to their higher floors for a better view of the hotel. 

The professional-looking camera and tripod gets you a few looks, but you have to admit, it's pretty fucking cool.

You took all of the establishing shots of the building before branching out to more creative angles and subjects.

You laid out on the ground to get an imposing shot of the building's facade and you just had to capture this really beautiful spider web in one of the cement planters out front. You played around with the zoom and focus as well, taking tighter shots of the sign above the red awning.

"Filming something, miss?" 

An elderly woman with beautiful white hair styled in tight pin curls stands behind you as you set up a new shot. The smell of her rose perfume is enchanting. 

"Yes ma'am," you answer brightly.

"What for?" 

"For a… well… it's an internet program," you explain. "They're going to try to film the ghosts that are supposed to be in the hotel."

"Oh my!" she gasps. "That sounds scary!"

"I hope so!" you laugh as you look back into the viewfinder. "Not too scary, though. But 'fun' scary would be nice."

"Well good luck dear. And say hello to the sommelier for me."

"The what?" you ask. But there's no response.

You turn around to the old woman, and she's nowhere to be found. The scent of rose still hangs in the air. 

_Uuuuuhhhhhhhh…… What the fuck?_

Probably just a really quick elderly woman. 

Right?

You decide to pack up and head inside as quickly as you can. It's just after noon by the time you start on all of the interior shots. 

Mike's list is a little longer to include the lobby and ballroom, but you still manage to film everything he specified. Then the real fun starts. 

You shoot every painting, zoom in on every chandelier, and pan across every inch of the ballroom. You've filled two memory cards by the time Jay taps you on the shoulder.

"How's it going in here?" he asks happily.

"Good! Great, actually. This is so fun!" you giggle. "I got everything you wanted and then I've just been screwing around, but if b-roll is what you want, I think you'll be pleased. At least, I hope so."

"I think it'll be great," Jay says as he plants a tiny kiss on your cheek. "I'll look through it tonight, but Mike wants to get lunch before filming the daylight tour."

"Is it? Wait, what time is it?"

"It's almost two. Aren't you hungry yet?" Jay laughs.

"Oh wow! I've been.. busy, I guess. Sorry. Just got carried away."

"I know the feeling," he smiles. "Let's get food."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After lunch, Dennis leads Mike and Jay around the hotel, pointing out some of the "more haunted" areas in the lobby. You’ve already got a ton of coverage of these rooms, but you’re sure to get more closeups of the spookiest paintings. The tour moves down to the ballroom and Dennis relays the story of how the space used to be a dedicated restaurant complete with a world-class sommelier. 

Your skin crawls.

“What is that?” Mike asks. You’re not sure if he’s in character or not, so you keep filming. 

“It’s a trained wine steward. The finest restaurants rely on them to pair food with the best wines from around the world,” Dennis explains. “Actually. There is supposed to be a ghost in the old wine cellar here. We never use it anymore, but there used to be a number of sightings of a man in a tuxedo.”

Mike grabs the front of Jay’s camera and makes an intense face. 

“You heard it here, YouTube! Looks like **THIS** dead wine expert just can’t leave the **BOO** ze alone!”

“And CUT!” Jay yells. 

Mike shuts down his camera and smiles encouragingly at you. “I’m actually impressed. You haven’t complained once,” he laughs. 

You hit stop and hold your camera down by your side. “Thanks, Mike.” 

“We’re almost done,” he informs you as he walks closer. “I think we should grab a few quick shots of Dennis and us in the wine cellar with some decent lighting and then come back tonight with the thermals.”

“Um… Mike?” you ask nervously. “I uh… well you believe in ghosts, right?” 

“I’m an informed sceptic,” he deadpans. 

“Well that’s close enough. There, um… there was an old lady outside talking to me earlier. She had, like, vintage-style hair and was really pretty. She told me to ‘say hello to the sommelier’ and when I turned around she was gone.”

Mike’s eyebrow arches sharply. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

“No!” you whisper-yell. “She said that and I didn’t know what the word even meant. And then we get in here, and Dennis said the wine guy is haunting the fucking basement.”

Mike watches you in silence for a moment before he cracks a smile.

“That’s hilarious,” Mike laughs heartily. “You had me for a second.”

“I’m not fucking trying to get you. I just… it was weird!”

“What’s goin on?” Jay says as he moves closer. 

“Oh your lovely friend here was just telling me about how this place is actually haunted,” Mike explains. 

“I didn’t say that!”

“That would actually be a really fun bit for this video, though,” Mike says with excitement. “I should try to get a random old lady on the street and do that!”

“Wait, what happened?” Jay asks. 

“Nothing! It was nothing! Let’s just… go to the basement,” you mutter. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dennis leads the group down a set of rickety stairs off of the small ballroom prep kitchen. The stairs lead down to a stone landing with a single wooden door. Dennis has to pull up at an awkward angle to get the door open and everyone, even Jay, has to hunch down to make it through the short doorway. 

“This place just fucking creeps me out, haunting or no,” Dennis confesses. 

The room feels like a bomb shelter and probably was one at some point. Dennis informs you that the walls are solid rock. No windows and only a single overhead light bulb. Dozens of crumbling wooden wine racks are set up in rows and several old steamer trunks are piled up in the corner. It’s dusty and fairy creepy, but at least there’s no mold or mildew smell. 

Mike and Jay set up a few lights and get the cameras rolling. Mike directs you to make sure your shadow doesn’t appear iframe. 

“Got it,” you reply quickly.

“Goddamn! Why can’t my wife be more like you?” Mike laughs. “That’s not me flirting, by the way. She just constantly bitches any time she helps us film and tells me to fuck myself if I ask her to do something specific with the camera.” Mike looks up to the ceiling and smiles wide. “God, I love that goblin so much.”

“That’s really sweet,” you coo behind the camera. 

“Tell no one!” Mike yells and jabs his finger toward you. He clears his throat and starts the short countdown to "action."

Dennis relays the story of the sommelier and his apparent suicide in this room around the time of the second World War. He was missing for weeks and when they finally found him, he was so well preserved by the cool temperature of the room that the police couldn’t determine when he had actually died.

“Well no one wanted to drink wine that’s been around a dead body for a week or two, so they had to toss a bunch of it. I guess that’s when the first sightings happened. Some of the staff started to dump the wine upstairs in the kitchen and they saw the dead man crying over the empty bottles.”

Mike lunges toward Jay’s camera and takes a hold of the lens again. “Sounds like **THIS** ghost is having a real **UN** -happy hour!”

“CUT!” Jay announces with a laugh. “I like that line. That was good.”

“Thanks Dennis,” Mike says before shaking his hand. 

“No problem. I’m here until eight tonight if you need anything, but I gotta get back to the desk.”

“Thanks!” you and Jay say at the same time. You wave happily and Dennis makes his way out of the squat doorway. 

You immediately start capturing some shots of the cellar. Of course, the spiderweb near the swinging overhead light, but also some fun angles of the old steamer trunks and the dust falling on the wine racks. You set up a tripod to get a lock-down shot of the weirdly-small entrance as Jay winds a cord around his arms behind you. Mike laughs lightly over your shoulder.

“What?” you inquire. “Should I be using a different lens? Jay hasn’t taught me about those yet.”

"No. Not at all. I’m sure you’re getting good stuff. You're awesome for helping us out today,” he chuckles warmly. He takes a few steps toward you and sighs. “I'm sorry about what happened last Sunday. Honestly. I drank way too much and took the joke too far."

"What joke?" you smile.

"The usual one," Mike explains. You hear a pained grunt from Jay as Mike continues: "You know, about Jay’s being completely obsessed with you for like a decade."

Your stomach falls into your shoes.

You turn back to Jay and see all of the color has disappeared from his face. His panicked eyes are focused squarely on Mike.

Your mouth goes dry and Jay refuses to look at you. 

"Was... that... _not_ mentioned in your heart-to-heart conversation?" Mike asks quietly.

"Nope," Jay replies as he stares down at the granite floor beneath him. 

Mike smacks his lips and exhales loudly. "Oh. Fuck. Okay. Gotcha. Yeah. I uh… I'm gonna go… do… anything else right now."

Mike hands you a spare battery and walks away as fast as his feet will take him, ducking sharply on the way out. 

..

"I…. god…" Jay mumbles. "I'm… so… uh…. I didn't…. Uh…"

You pivot in place and look at Jay. His shoulders sag and he stares down at the ground miserably. 

"I…. he was just…. It… it's not like….."

...

"Look at me, Jay."

"I… I'm… I…"

"Just look at me," you plead.

Jay finally glances up from the rocky floor and into your eyes.

"I was still thinking about you, too, remember? That's why I dropped everything to come out here when you called."

"I just… I don't… didn't… want to… scare you… or… shit," Jay fumbles as he tries to explain. He pounds his fist against his forehead. "...Shit! I fucked this up..."

"Jay" you sigh. "You haven't fucked up a single thing. The only reason I'm concerned right now is you look really freaked out, and I don't want Mike's dumb slipup to throw you off."

You grab hold of his hand and squeeze him tight and he looks at you with nervous eyes. 

"I know you're embarrassed, I know you don't talk about your feelings, and that's okay."

You little pep talk seems to have done absolutely nothing to console him. Jay's palm goes limp in your hand. 

He stands in silence; eyes focused entirely on the floor.

He doesn't make a sound.

…

You press your forehead to his and breathe in deeply. 

_Fuck_.

...

"How about we just freak out about this later?" you suggest. 

"What?" Jay asks quietly. "What do you...?"

"I mean, if you have to...switch off for a bit...that's-that's okay. It's how you process stuff and I'm cool with that... but we have a lot left to shoot. I was having a lot of fun filming stuff with you, so maybe....if you could set it aside, we could deal with it later?"

He looks up to you with a perplexed expression. 

"You… want me… to just…?"

"To just put it off for a little while. I'm not going anywhere and I'm not scared of you or angry or anything," you assure him. "We have a job today, so let's do that first and then sort through this shit later. Okay?"

Jay's eyes dart to the floor, flashing left and right as he tries to think.

"I..."

There's a soft creak off to your side and you both turn in time to see the door to the wine cellar close shut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long one! Hope you're still in board!


	26. Sunday, September 20th 2020 3:14pm - Wine Cellar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're stuck with an emotionally unavailable man.

You look at Jay with wide eyes. He runs to the door and tries to open it, but it won't budge.

Jay reaches for the handle and the iron fixture breaks into pieces. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" you scream. 

He rams his shoulder into the door twice, but it's simply not moving. 

"I'll just call Mike. It's fine," Jay says as he digs in his pocket for his phone. 

"Fuck! Are you…? FUCK! I don't have any reception down here."

You reach for your phone and discover it's the same story.

"I… can't… " Jay growls. "I can't fucking believe this." He slumps down against the door and smacks the back of his head against the wood.

You search around the cellar, looking for a spot that might have reception. Of course, there's nothing.

Jay rubs his eyes with both fists and stands up. He runs his shoulder into the door again.

"Mike will be back soon. It's okay."

"It's not that… goddamn it… I shouldn't… I... Fuck!" He tries to get some purchase on the door and pull it upwards before ramming it again. 

No such luck.

Jay sits on the stoop by the door and covers his face with both hands. 

Thirty long seconds pass in silence. 

_Looks like the plan for Jay to hold off on the shutdown might not work anymore._

You sigh softly and slouch against the wall. 

"I was having a lot of fun today, so you know," you tell him. "Before the goddamn ghost locked us in here." You try a small smile, but Jay's too focused on the floor to notice.

Ten more seconds of silence is your only response.

"With you and Mike; filming all of this today. Even the stuff by myself was really cool. I can see why Jack and Josh volunteer for you so much."

Jay rubs his temples and huffs sadly. 

"I know I was just shooting stupid b-roll and god knows if you're even going to use it, but it was fun. And it means a lot to me that you trusted me to do that."

…

You stare down at the camera bag near your feet and think back to your earlier time alone. 

"I got to lug around this awesome equipment and look like a professional. All those people thought I knew what I was doing; I didn't even have to say anything. Crowds just parted for me.

"I felt… I dunno know… _special._ Like an artist, I guess. You probably feel like that all the time."

He gives you a furtive glance and then returns his gaze downward.

"Looking at the world through a lens; it's eye-opening. Maybe that sounds stupid," you sigh.

Jay shakes his head, but says nothing. 

"I found all of these beautiful little things I never would have noticed if I didn't have a camera. You can zoom in on something insignificant and make it important. That’s so cool.”

"What did you shoot?"

You jump when Jay finally speaks. He's still huddled on the floor near the door. You calm yourself and continue on:

"Just… stuff I thought was pretty or interesting-looking. Things that caught my eye, I guess."

"Would you show me?"

"When we get out of here, sure," you chuckle. "We'll get some popcorn and watch my b-roll masterpiece."

Jay stands up and walks to the camera bag near your feet. 

"We can use the camera's display."

"You don't have to watch it, Jay. It's two hours of nothing."

"You got something better to do until Mike gets back?" Jay says with an almost imperceptible smirk.

"Good point," you reply and grab the first memory card from your pocket. Jay picks up his camera and walks over to your spot along the wall.

He takes a seat on your left and opens up the camera's LCD display. Jay inserts the memory card and you huddle together to watch the tiny screen.

It's all just thirty-second clips of the building; some up-close, some from a distance. It's a laundry list of Mike's b-roll requests, but Jay watches intently all the same. 

“How did you get that lens flare?”

“I just saw it in the corner of the viewfinder, so I laid down on the pavement and took the shot from here.”

"Wow. Well it looks great. J.J. Abrams adds those all digitally now," he smiles.

“That fucking hack!” you laugh softly.

Jay points to the display. “That’s nice. Where did you get that angle?”

“I went to the Milwaukee Club next door and they let me up to their top floor. I thought it would be nice to get a full pan of the building from top to bottom for a more interesting establishing shot. Just wanted to give you options.”

"They just let you in?" he marvels.

"Well I asked them nicely, but yeah."

"Huh."

When the footage of the spider web comes on screen, Jay smiles wide. He covers his mouth and chuckles lightly.

“What’s funny? Is it that bad?”

“No! No not at all. I just… it reminds me of when I got my first camera.”

“Oh god, it’s that amatuer?” You cover your eyes with your hands and Jay pulls them away. 

“No. Not the camera when I was ten. The one I bought for myself when I was in high school. That’s when I actually started thinking about cinematography as a way to convey a story. 

"I always loved movies, and I had made a ton of them in middle school. But it wasn’t until I had to study _Citizen Kane_ in a film class my junior year that I realized what a camera can communicate to an audience."

“ _Citizen Kane?_ Really?” you smile. 

“It’s boring as shit, don’t get me wrong,” Jay laughs. “But the camera work was mind-blowing. All of those extreme angles that make you feel nervous just watching it. And the really harsh lighting on characters - you never even see their faces. It all told so much without saying anything.

“The camera conveys like 90% of that movie. If it had been another director, it would have just been a movie about some rich asshole and his sled.”

“So you think my spiderweb is _Citizen Kane-_ level amazing?” you smirk. 

“Uhhhhh," he stalls with a smile. "I think that Mike and I are so used to this stuff that we just run through the motions sometimes. We’re filming a fake ghost show to generate enough clicks to keep the lights on in the studio. 

"But you… You're experiencing all this for the first time and it's… just look at this.” 

He points to the display screen and you watch your footage of the Pfister sign blurring out until a delicate, shimmering web comes into focus in the foreground. A tiny black spider scutters across the web.

“That’s amazing,” he declares. 

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I know I don’t,” Jay laughs and turns to you. “But honestly-think about what this shot tells an audience. The sign lets them know where we are and the low angle makes the building more imposing. But it also brings the audience’s focus onto something that we’re instinctively afraid of. 

“Spiders by themselves can be unsettling and dangerous. And spiderwebs are associated with hauntings and general spookiness. So this one, twenty-second shot establishes a connection between the location and all of those uneasy feelings.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as you consider this. You look at Jay's profile and smile.

“Well there’s two more hours left, so strap in,” you snicker. You lean against his arm and rest your head on his shoulder. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

“It’s beautiful,” he says softly. “I love it.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Forty minutes later and you’ve made it through most of the card. Jay points out shots he likes and gives you some suggestions for framing subjects. He demonstrates a dolly zoom on your shoes and shows you the footage. 

“My god, Jay! My feet look **_terrified!”_**

“Exactly!” he giggles. “That’s the ‘shit just got real’ shot from _Vertigo_ and _Jaws.”_

“Can you watch the stuff I filmed of you and Mike for the tour? I want to make sure I didn’t fuck that up.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine, but yeah. Absolutely.”

He swaps out the memory cards and presses play. You lean your head on his shoulder and breathe in the warm smell of him. Jay holds out his right palm for you and you wrap your fingers through his. 

“Oh that’s great,” Jay says as he points to the screen. “It looks exactly like one of those stupid ghost shows.”

“I like this footage better because then I get to see your butt,” you explain. 

“There are a weird amount of shots of my ass in this,” Jay laughs. 

“I’m giving the people what they want, Jay!”

He brings your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles softly; running the back of your hand against his beard. He turns his head to look at you and a big section of hair falls into his eyes. Jay tries to blow it away, but it falls right back down. 

You thread the fingers of your free hand through his hairline to bring everything back in line. He smiles appreciatively and everything else fades away. You lean forward and press your lips to his cheek. 

You’re not sure if he’s ready for anything more right now, and that’s okay. 

“If we don’t get hypothermia and die, I’d say this has been my favorite part of today,” you tease. 

“Couldn’t agree more,” Jay replies happily. “Except for the nipple stuff this morning. I .. uh… I enjoyed that… um, quite a bit.”

Your eyes go wide and a huge smile appears on your face. 

“My my my!!” you giggle. “Better add that into the repertoire, then.” 

Jay sputters into laughter and you join in quickly.

“Hey! You guys still down here?” comes Mike’s voice from the other side of the door. 

“Oh thank Christ!” Jay yells. “Yeah, we’re down here.”

“Are you still pissed at me?” Mike asks.

“No, it's fine. The door closed and the nob’s broken,” Jay explains.

You hear Mike getting as he pulls up on the door.

“Oh weird,” Mike mumbles from the other side.

“Weird what? Can you not get it open?” Jay yells.

"No, its… wait… just a sec." 

The sharp sound of metal against metal irks your ears before Mike pulls the door free. 

“The old deadbolt was locked,” Mike marvels. 

“Very funny." Jay's words drop with sarcasm.

“I’m serious,” Mike proclaims. “It was locked from outside.”

You duck out of the cellar and into the stairwell. "I'm not going back in there," you say adamantly. "I'll wait here and make sure the door doesn't lock again."

Mike heads back into the cellar to pack up the equipment. Jay grabs his camera and two lights and gives you a sweet smile in his way back up the stairs. 

Mike grabs the last light and your camera bag and stops in the doorway. 

He looks so apologetic and vulnerable when his big brown eyes finally make their way to yours. He rubs his forehead with one hand.

"I just… uh.. I just wanted to say…" 

Mike clears his throat and takes a deep breath.

"It _reeks_ like sex in here,” he smiles. 

“Thank you, Michael. That means a lot coming from you.” 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You all go back up to the suite and sit down to review the raw footage of the interview and tour. Mike seems pretty satisfied with your footage. He’s not as enthusiastic as Jay, but still surprisingly gracious about your camera work.

“Oh that’s an interesting pan. I like that,” he beams at one of your shots of the interior b-roll. “I honestly thought I might have to reshoot all of this myself, but I think you nailed it,” Mike laughs. 

“Thanks,” you blush. 

“Well if I don’t have to reshoot anything, we have some spare time,” Mike announces. He pulls out his laptop and sets it up on the huge dining room table. “Jay, can you finish up the ghost-hunting equipment? I want to do some research on the spirits that are supposed to be here.”

Jay opens up a large tool chest full of bizarre equipment. Glow sticks and old toy parts with things that light up and twirl. There’s a busted PKE meter from a Ghostbusters playset and what looks like a vintage ray-gun.

Jay holds up the gold-detector from SpaceCop and calls for your attention. “Would you believe this as a EVP recorder?” 

“It’s all fucking nonsense, so yeah; I’d buy that.”

"Excellent," he mutters and gets to work.

You volunteer to fetch dinner for everyone and let Jay and Mike finish up. Mike let's you use the company credit card and you feel like a fucking queen when you slap it down in the counter at Mason Street Grill.

By the time you get back, the sun is setting over the Pfister. You carry two full plastic bags full of food out of the restaurant and notice Jay across Jefferson Street filming on a tripod.

"What are you doing out here?" you ask loud enough to be heard over the passing traffic. "Oh no, do you have to reshoot my b-roll?"

Jay pulls away from the viewfinder and stands up straight. He runs his hand through his hair in slow-motion and the muscle of his arm tests the strength of his thin shirt sleeve. He looks like a goddamn Diet Coke commercial in the gorgeous light of the sunset. 

His skin takes on a deep, golden glow as he flashes you that perfectly crooked smile.

"No. Your's is great," he laughs. "I just felt a little inspired."

"By me?"

"Yeah," he chuckles. "I thought I should get a few shots of the sunset and we can use them as a transition to the night-time footage." He tucks his hands into his back pockets and his chest broadens beautifully.

_He's completely in his element behind the camera. Just so confident and so **absolutely fucking sexy.**_

Jay's face blushes.

"I... uh... thanks," he says with a bashful smile.

_Did you just fucking say that OUT LOUD?!_

"Sorry. I… didn't mean to.. um... sorry," you apologize. 

"I like it, actually," Jay admits with pink cheeks.

"Well I'll try to keep in the bedroom or on public sidewalks," you smile. You try to change the subject before your ears catch fire. "You almost ready? The food is getting cold."

"Yeah. I'm done here. Just a sec." Jay unlocks the camera and picks up the tripod. 

You wait for the light and walk across the street together. Even with his hands full, he insists on holding the door. After you catch the elevator, Jay turns to you. 

"You… are… too. As well."

"What?" 

"Umm… you know.. like what you were saying earlier," he says as he avoids your gaze. "But about you."

"I'm sorry, I don't..."

Jay sets the tripod down on the corner of the elegant elevator and moves toward you. He holds the camera in his left hand and steps between your feet. 

His right hand grabs your ass as his hip pins you against the wall. His chest presses against yours.

"You are fucking gorgeous," he murmurs against your lips. His low voice reverberates through your body.

You feel the blood rush away from your brain and straight down. You try to move your hands, but they're pinned at your sides from the weight of all of the food. 

Jay's lips find yours and you open to him immediately. His right hand moves from your ass up over your breast. Your teeth clink against each as your tongues wrestle for dominance. You moan into his mouth and the elevator dings loudly. 

Jay takes a step back and pulls your shirt down.

"What was that for?" you pant.

You hold the door open and Jay grabs the equipment. 

"I… just… I don't know how long we're going to be filming tonight and didn't want to wait to kiss you," he explains with a smirk.

You smile wide before walking out into the short hallway near the Presidential suites. Jay fiddles with his pockets as he searches for the key card. 

"Just so you know," you whisper. "I owe you an orgasm."

Jay nearly drops the camera as Mike opens the door. 

"Welcome back!" Mike roars. "The witching hour is upon us!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. He's getting a little better... Right? Kinda?
> 
> Stay turned!


	27. Sunday, September 20th 2020 6:28pm - Ghost Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the ghost hunting begin!

You do your best to capture Jay and Mike's strange Ghost-Bro antics for the next three hours. You burn through another two memory cards following them with their bleeping fake equipment through the lobby and ballroom. 

Mike suggests going through the wine cellar again and Jay agrees. You film them as they walk down the narrow steps with Mike using a modified stud-finder to 'measure the energies.'

"Can I stay out here, though?" you ask him from the doorway. You don't care if it ruins the take.

"The wine guy and his girlfriend make for a really good story, though," Mike explains from the center of the room.

"Wait, he had a girlfriend? What's that about?" you ask.

Mike lowers his camera and makes a snarky face.

"I know you did your research, girly. The sommelier and his unrequited love."

"What's that about?" Jay asks as he reviews some footage on his camera.

"The guy who died in here was in love with the owner's daughter. He was a busboy, but trained himself to be a sommelier to try to impress her parents and be good enough to marry her. 

“But her dad told him he was still a piece of shit and tried to marry her off to some oil tycoon. Then he got a fucking draft notice,” Mike chuckles. “Talk about a shitty fucking week."

You hold your camera down at your side. Mike pops off his camera's battery and searches for a new one in his bag.

"I guess he killed himself down here because he was going to have to go to war and he thought he'd never be good enough for Rose. Apparently, he never told her he loved her. It was all in his suicide note where he finally professed his undying love or whatever. Don't act like you don't know all of this."

"For _who?"_ you shiver.

"For Sarah Pfister. Everyone called her Rose because she was obsessed with roses," he explains. "She had a big rose garden that got bulldozed when they expanded Milwaukee Avenue."

You stare at Mike and he rolls his eyes. 

"She never married and died like ten years ago. But that's what you were joking about earlier, right?"

The hair stands up straight on the back of your neck. 

"You're not filming now, right?" you whisper.

Mike and Jay shake their heads in the negative.

"Okay. Well, uh..." You place one step into the cellar and hold on to the doorway.

"What was his name?" you direct your question to Mike.

"Thomas something," he replies as he digs through a camera bag.

You look around the room and try not to sound scared.

"Hey, uh… Thomas," you announce to the ceiling. "Um.. in case you're around, um.. I think Sarah.. or, um 'Rose'... wanted me to say hello. I met her today and she seemed really nice. She's outside by the garden if you, uh.. if you want to talk to her."

"Hilarious," Mike deadpans. He reaches for the tripod and the overhead light flashes bright white before the bulb shatters into pieces; plunging the world into darkness.

Jay and Mike stand in the black room in complete silence as you back slowly into the stairwell.

"So I think we got everything we need." Mike's voice trembles before his shaking hands find the flashlight of his cellphone.

Jay grabs the camera equipment in front of him and heads toward the door. 

"Guys, that bulb was going to blow at any time," he insists. "The wiring down here is like a hundred years old."

Mike quickly throws all of his fake ghost-hunting equipment into a bag and you both move swiftly up the stairs. 

"Yep. Yeah. That's exactly…" you start.

"Exactly what that was," Mike concludes. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jay is the only one to speak on the way back to the suite. Mike packs his bags and leaves with a small wave. 

Jay laughs as the door closes.

"Looks like you really scared him," he laughs. "That's amazing. I don't think I've ever seen him like that."

"I wasn't trying to scare him," you insist. 

"Well still, kudos," Jay smiles as he wraps his arms around you. His face nuzzles into your neck and you are strangely conflicted.

"Wait, you're _actually_ scared right now?" he asks with a laugh.

"Of course I am!"

"Oh! Sorry. I thought you were joking," he giggles. "We can… let's just watch something fun and take your mind off of things." 

Something crashes against the wall and you leap onto Jay; wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging into him for dear life. 

His hands hold you up by the nearest parts of your thighs. Jay giggles as he sputters your hair out of his mouth.

"It was just a tripod or something. I'll go check," Jay assures you. He takes his hands off of your thighs but there's no way in hell you're letting go. 

You feel Jay's laughter vibrate against your chest. He grabs more of your ass than is strictly necessary and walks to the bedroom.

"Let's go to bed and watch something scary. Something atmospheric, spooky but deliberate. Maybe a ghost story that'll really haunt us as we try to sleep."

"Why would you say 'ghosts'?!" you mumble into his beard. "I hate you so much right now!"

"I don't think that's true," he snickers. He sits on the edge of the massive bed and moves his hands to caress your back. You have a solid seat on his lap with your legs still wrapped firmly around his midsection. His hands start to massage your tense shoulders. 

"That feels really nice, but I'm still mad at you," you murmur.

"It's okay," he laughs. "No more ghost talk, I promise."

You sit back in his lap and hold his face with both hands. You finally open your eyes and..

"Oh my god, Jay- Your face."

His eyes are bloodshot and his lower lid is starting to swell. They look inflamed enough that he might as well have been rubbing sand into them.

"What?!" he questions

You scramble off of his lap and try not to panic. 

"Jay! Your eyes are beet red and swollen! Can you even see me?"

"Ahh shit! Are you fucking… goddamn it!" he yells as he walks to check his face in the mirror. 

"Was it something you ate?" you try.

"No… I think it's the dust from the basement... _Fuck!_ This hasn't happened since fucking college."

"Does it hurt?" you prod.

"No. It's just… fuck, it's not exactly the look I was going for."

You bite your tongue and try not to laugh. 

"Just go take a shower and get all that shit out of your hair," you giggle. You watch his miserable expression in the mirror before you plant a kiss to his cheek. "I'll still be here when you're done." 

"Fuckin' shit, man," Jay curses in his way to the master bathroom. 

"Hey, Jay," you call from the bed. "Could you… leave the door open… a little… maybe?" 

Jay's swollen eyes look puzzled.

"There's actually another bathroom down the hall if you need…. oh. OooOOOoohhh," he blushes. 

"Yeah," you smile and bite your lip. "I was just trying to sneak a peek at your butt.” 

"I'll think about it," he smiles. 

"Well then get to scrubbing, Bauman!"

Jay heads into the bathroom and you hear the door latch shut.

_Damn._

The shower starts up and you resign yourself to another evening of your life spent without knowing what Jay's pert bottom looks like.

_Double damn._

You grab the remote and find a small flier on the nightstand. Apparently, the Presidential suite comes with complementary satellite TV and all of the movie channels. 

You pop on _Bill and Ted: Face The Music_ as something to distract yourself from the thought of naked Jay standing under a stream of steamy, hot water just on the other side of that door. 

Actually, maybe you could stand to shed some clothing, too. The surprise length of this stay had left you without pajamas, but you weren't going to sleep in these dusty jeans.

You tug off your shirt and pants, folding them semi-carefully and setting them on the nightstand on your side of the bed. You pull the resplendent goose down comforter away from the bed and throw some ten decorative pillows on the ground before you hear the bathroom door open.

Steam bellows from the bathroom as Jay opens the door by a few inches. You wait for him to walk out, but it sounds like he's walking away. 

_Should you go in? The open door was an invitation, right? Or…_

You walk quietly across the bedroom in just your bra and panties. You push the door to the bathroom open ever so slightly to see a freshly-showered Jay checking his eyes in the mirror.

His wet hair sticks out in several directions and his towel is slung so low on his hips you can see the contour of his lumbar where it dips down to the swell of his ass. Water droplets sparkle enticingly across his back.

Above his head on the steamy mirror, giant letters spell out a message.

You wet your lips and lean against the doorway. 

"Tell me what?" you ask sweetly.

Jay pats off his beard with a hand towel and looks back at you. His chest is still deliciously pink from the hot water from the shower. You imagine teasing him as he rests against the counter. 

"What do you mean?" he smiles.

You point to the words on the mirror behind him.

"It says 'Tell Her!'" you read. "Tell me what?"

Jay turns sharply and has to crane his neck to view the words at the top of the mirror.

"I didn't… I don't…" he stutters.

"You don't what?"

"I…. I didn't… I didn't write that," he clamors. 

You cross your arms over your chest defiantly. 

"Goddamn it, Jay! You promised no more ghost shit!"

"I…don't… I…" he turns back and hops up in his towel to clear the message off of the steamy mirror with his hand.

"Oh... So nothing to tell me?"

He spins back to you. "Nope. Nope. Nothing. Not that I know of,” he tries. “I think this is from the last guest. Probably some Republican senator or something."

"Eeeww," your face wrinkles up in disgust. "Old guys and their mistresses. Or manstresses, if those guys were Republican."

"Right, right," Jay says quickly.

"Well he wrote it enough times! Damn." You point out the dozen more copies of the message that appear on the mirror before turning back to the bedroom. You can hear Jay's hand squeaking against the glass to erase them all as you crawl into bed. 

Jay steps out in the towel a minute later. His eyes are still red, but far less noticeable than before his shower. If anything, he just looks a little stoned and little panicked. 

"You okay? Do you want to come to bed?" you ask as you unfasten your bra and toss it away.

"Uhh… uh.. umm… yeah. Yeah. Okay.. uh..," Jay answers nervously. 

"If that's too much I can put more clothes on. I didn't mean to make you nervous- Let me get my shirt," you announce and hop off of the mattress.

"No!" Jay's voice cracks. "No. That's… that's totally fine." 

You turn to him, bare breasted on the other side of the bed, waiting for him to speak.

He peers into your eyes intently as he makes his way closer. 

"I… uh… I thought about you. A lot, actually," Jay admits weakly. He sits in his towel at the foot of the bed.

"That's okay. I thought about you too, remember?" You walk to the end of the mattress and sit next to him. "You don't have to explain what Mike said. I know you don't talk about relationship stuff with him; he was just joking. I get it."

"I don't. Yeah…. I don't talk about that stuff,” he puffs out his cheeks and exhales loudly. “Until I'm drunk and miserable. Then I… talk too much.

"I… uh.. I told Mike about you the day after we met. And uh.." Jay takes a shallow breath. "I've kinda… brought you up... a few times since then."

"Really?" You're more shocked than happy and you try to not let your face give anything away.

"Yeah. Uh…. after every breakup I’ve gone through over the past ten years, actually. I'd throw myself a pity party with a bottle of Maker's Mark and cry to anyone that would listen." 

Jay rubs both hands down his cheeks. 

"Which was mostly Mike; sometimes Jack. But he'd sit there and drink with me for hours and listen to me bitch about how unfair the world was. And then I’d inevitably prattle on about… well, about you, I guess."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you," he smirks. "Or at least the fantasy girl I made you into. That's a big part of why I don't want to rush into anything. Because I've spent ten years imagining you as some perfect woman and that's not realistic or fair to you." 

"Wow. That's… a lot," you breathe as you wrap your fingers around his right hand. Jay shrugs almost imperceptibly and his head hangs low. You lean forward and plant a kiss on his wet cheek. "Honestly, I get it. I think a small part of me compared any romantic partner I've had over the last few years to you, too. Especially guys with beards. I can confidently say I've never met a man with a better beard than yours," you smile.

Jay chuckles weakly and runs his thumb over your fingers. 

"You should know that I'm not perfect, not at all. And I'll definitely call you out if you're being a dick," you laugh. "And if your movie choices are just too fucking weird for me. But thank you for being honest." 

Jay turns to you and smiles shyly. He kisses the back of your hand and clears his throat:

"Would you be okay sleeping… um… **naked** tonight? Maybe?" he asks timidly.

You slap your knee as you laugh.

"Ha! Of course I can," you giggle. "But why? You got anything special in mind?"

"I'd… well… I’d like to make you cum until you can't walk, if that's okay," Jay offers. 

Your eyes go wide as saucers. 

"I...uh.. wow," you blush. "Jesus... uh... wo... did you practice that line for a while?"

"I did, yes," Jay beams proudly.

"Well shit... yeah. Good job," you giggle. "That sounds… yeah.. that's good." You lean in to place a kiss to his red lips, but stop yourself short and pull away

"Wait!" you snap. "But I still owe you for last night." 

"You don't owe me anything," he whispers against your cheek. "But if you insist..." Jay nibbles down your neck, "...we can do that, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave it to a love-lorn ghost to scare some honesty out of Jay. 👻😘


	28. Sunday, September 20th 2020 10:02pm - Presidential Suite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just porn, if I'm being honest.

"Well goddamn," you laugh. "Maybe we should stay in an historic five-star hotel every night."

"It's not the room," Jay murmurs against your neck. He draws your earlobe into his mouth and sucks gently. The electric jolt shoots straight to your panties. "I just think you're sexy with a camera."

He kisses down your throat to your decolletage and directs your back on to the mattress. 

"You, too," you smile up at him. "I thought that was the sexiest I've ever seen you, but then you go walking around in a towel and now I just don't even know what to do with myself."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm here," he smirks before raising an eyebrow. "Cause I know exactly what to do with you."

You throw your arms around his damp shoulders and giggle girlishly. 

"You are on fucking fire tonight, Bauman."

His left hand coasts up your thigh and wraps around the side of your panties. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip as he shifts his weight into you. 

"Could you take these off for me?" he breathes against your mouth. 

"Of course," you smile as you pull your panties down. You have to sit up again to yank them off of your ankles and toss your underwear near your bra. "Do you want me to get the lights?" 

"Nah, I got it," he insists. Jay stands up from the mattress and walks to the light switch in just his towel. He flips the switch on his side lamp before pulling the damp fabric away from his waist.

Your eyes fall right out of your fucking head as you take in a fully nude Jay Bauman.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck me." The words dibble out of your mouth before you realize you're even speaking. 

Jay stands next to the gigantic Presidential bed. The lamp on the side table casts its heavenly light upon Jay's thick thighs. 

He's… fuck… there's just no other fucking word… he's perfect.

His broad shoulders narrow down softly to his waist and the dark, curly hair on his chest thickens measurably at his center. His pectorals are well-defined _(he has been working out, you smile)_ and catch the light beautifully. 

His soft belly just begs to be nibbled. 

Your teeth bite down hard on your lower lip as your eyes follow the line of his collarbone down to his strong biceps. Droplets of water still cling to his toned forearms and somehow every muscle in his upper body seems to point straight down. 

The patch of hair above his cock is neatly trimmed and your mouth waters at the sight of his half-hard member as he walks toward you.

You wet your lips at the edge of the bed, hopeful that you can take all of him into your mouth. Your hands reach out to grab him by the hips and he takes hold of your wrists. 

"Uh… not _that,"_ Jay proclaims with a tinge of regret. "Not quite yet."

"Oh! Okay. Sure," you reply in a daze. You're still salivating at the sight of his impressive cock just inches from your face. "Yeah. Whatever you're comfortable with is fine."

"You already know what I want to do."

_Even better._

"I love the sound of that," you reply cheerfully. You crawl up to the head of the bed and fall back against a mountain of huge pillows. Jay watches you thoughtfully as you ease your hand over your wet center. 

He smiles sweetly before crawling naked into bed. He stills your hand; pulling it away gently and setting it down by your thigh.

"No. You've already done so much for me today. I want you to lay back and enjoy this. Okay?"

"Yeah. Umm.. okay," you reply as you try to calm your rapid heartbeat. "But the lights are still on.. if you.. you know… if you want them off." 

Jay leans back on his feet and tilts his head adorably. 

"I’d like to see your face," he replies. He reaches down to your ankle and begins to knead the lowest part of your calf. "I missed it last time and I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His hand coasts up to the back of your knee and he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your thigh. 

“Really?” you smile as you feel your cheeks burning red. You watch his left arm flex to support him while he continues to suck, kiss, and nibble up your leg. 

“Yeah, really. I can turn down the lights afterwards, but I’d like to see you - _all of you_ \- when I make you cum for me.”

"I… yeah. I... have zero problem with that," you reply. Your excited stutter seems to please him immeasurably. His green eyes wrinkle at the corners as a devastatingly handsome smile appears on his face. 

His hand glides up from your thigh as he moves to rest on your right side. He lays his head down on the pillow next to you and watches himself tracing the fullest part of your left breast with his fingertips. 

“Do you like this?” Jay asks as he looks down into your eyes. 

“Yes,” you smile. “I’ll let you know the second you do something I don’t like…” 

He tugs at your nipple gently, watching the sensitive bud harden as he bites down on his bottom lip. 

“...but I’m completely blanking what that could possibly be,” you breathe.

He chuckles once before leaning down to kiss you softly. He smells absolutely fucking delicious; like sweet lemongrass and sage. 

Whatever complimentary soaps are in the bathroom, you’re going to steal them; _ALL of them._

You run your hand up the nape of his neck and feel the cool water from his hair dripping down to your knuckles. His tongue meets yours as soon as you open your mouth to him. You feel his damp mustache tickle your nose. 

Jay’s hand moves to caress your breast fully; kneading your warming flesh as you whimper into his mouth. He moves away just far enough to see your entire face. His hand runs down your side and rests just under your ass. 

His gaze shifts back and forth as he studies your eyes. 

“What are you looking for?” you whisper sweetly. 

“I told you I want to see all of you,” is Jay’s only answer before his fingers part your folds. He observes your eyes roll back in your head as he eases two thick fingers inside of your wet cunt. He pumps them slowly in and out before swirling them across your clit. You lay back on the bed fully and claw at the comforter with both hands. 

Jay’s expression is unreadable as his fingers apply more pressure. He opens his index and middle fingers into a tight "V", rubbing your clit from both sides every time his hand pulls away from you. 

Your thighs shake from the intensity of his touch. Your back arches off of the mattress and moan up to the ceiling.

‘Should I focus just here?” he asks expectantly. 

_**“Fuck…"** _you growl. “Wh… what do you mean?” you gasp. Your hips begin to roll into his hand. 

“Or would you like this better?” Jay leans into you and runs his palm over your clit before sliding both fingers inside. He flicks his wrist to rub your clit at the same time his fingers fuck your wet pussy. 

“Holy fucking shit! you screech. “Oh my god, that feels amazing!” 

Jay chews his bottom lip as he watches your body writhe under his touch. His wet hair falls into his eyes, but he’s too distracted to comb it back. He changes his rhythm and is mesmerized by the rise and fall of your breasts as you move in response to him. 

"I think I can make it feel even better for you," he says quietly. He pulls his hand away and licks them from knuckle to tip; humming appreciatively at the taste of your cunt on his fingers. 

With his hand gone, you finally have enough control over your body to watch him move away. He keeps both fingers in his mouth; peering straight down at your wet center and stroking his hardening cock. Jay straddles your right leg and watches himself slip his split-soaked digits back inside of you.

He presses the palm of his left hand into your mound and quickly flicks two fingers across your swollen clit.

"FUUUUCK!" you wail like a banshee. Your hips buck sharply against Jay's right hand, but his legs on either side of yours keeps your pelvis pinned to the mattress.

The feeling of both of his hands working in tandem is completely fucking mind-melting. The exquisite stretch, Jay's rough fingers petting your g-spot, and his relentless rhythm at your sensitive bud brings you quickly to the edge. Your toes curl tight as your back arches sharply off the bed.

"Please don't fucking stop! Fuck that feels so fucking good!"

You desperately reach for some part of him to hold onto and your right hand soon finds his thick manhood. Jay jolts as you wrap your fingers around him. You pump softly against his dick and the perfect pressure against your clit suddenly falters.

You run your index finger over his tip and feel the precum gathering at his slit. 

Jay leans back, removing his left hand from your mound and allowing you better access to his rock-hard cock. You glide your index finger over his tip and he watches you, mouth agape, as you flick your tongue over his warm seed.

The salty taste of him in your mouth is almost enough to send you toppling over the edge. 

Jay's eyes darken as you run your tongue over your lips to taste every single drop off his cum. He moans appreciatively before adding a third finger into your impossibly wet cunt. The heavenly stretch makes your vision blur. You bare your teeth as you lock eyes with him.

"Can you cum for me?" Jay growls.

You snake your hand up the inside of his hairy thigh and ease your fingers back around his weeping cock.

"Can you?" you moan. 

You pump against him and he throws his head back. His slick-coated right hand brushes through the damp hair at his temple. You increase your pressure and pace and feel his hips roll into your leg.

"You don't have tooo… oh, fuck," he pants.

"Do you want to cum all over me?" 

Your filthy words act like an electric shock up his spine. Jay's body tightens above you and he breathes hard through his teeth.

"God, fuck! Fuck, yes. Please," he answers with a growl. "But you first."

He leans forward, his knees on either side of your right thigh. He curls three digits up toward your belly button and flutters his left hand over your clit.

You feel your cunt clamp down around Jay's fingers just before your entire world goes white. Your hand tightens around the base of his cock as every muscle in your body pulls taut. 

"Holy fucking shit! Oh god, don't stop… I'm so fucking clooo….OOH FUUUUCK!" 

Your body convulses as wave after wave of ecstasy tears through you. Your hand pumps wantonly at Jay's cock while you moan his name. 

"Oh shit! Fuck, I'm going to c…" Jay's words devolve into a strained growl before he cums hard across your stomach. Ropes of his warm release spurt over your wrist and forearm as you stroke him through his orgasm.

Jay's hair falls into his eyes as he watches himself paint your glistening skin with his seed. 

"Holy fucking shit," he curses as his cock is finally spent. Your pussy still pulses around his fingers as the last waves of your pleasure roll through your body.

"Goddamn," he pants. "That… felt fucking… shit.... goddamn..."

His face wrinkles sharply.

"Uh… um... could you, um... let go of my dick, please?"

"Oh shit! I'm so sorry!" you apologize as you release Jay's softening cock from your vice-like grip. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Jay brushes his long hair back with both hands and untangles himself from your legs. He collapses your right side and nearly falls off the bed. He manages to stand on wobbly legs and smiles down at you.

"You didn't hurt me at all," he chuckles. His laughter fades as he watches you drag your sticky right hand across your cum-covered stomach. You hear a low grow rumble in Jay's chest when you bring your hand to your lips and flick your tongue over your fingertips.

You smile wickedly at him.

"It looks like it’s my turn to shower."

"I'm not sure about that. I think you look amazing," he smirks. He runs the palm of his hand down the inside of your thigh and massages the back of your knee. "So you can still walk, huh?" 

"Afraid so," you giggle as you make your way off of the mattress. You head for the shower as hIs cum threatens to drip down to the carpet.

Before you reach the door he gently grabs your left shoulder. When you turn to him, Jay presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. He rests his forehead against yours and tucks an errant hair behind your ear. 

"You're beautiful," he breathes. The warm light from the bathroom vanity mirror makes his green eyes sparkle. 

"You, too," you reply. 

Jay smiles wide and his prominent front teeth just barely nip into his lower lip. He walks back to the mattress and you clear your throat before starting the shower.

"Just so you know, I won't be closing this door. So if you want to peek, go right on ahead."

"Uhh.. maybe. Yeah. Maybe," Jay calls back.

As you step under the shower and lather up with the heavenly soap, Jay quietly leans against the doorway to watch. 

You spend an inordinate amount of time sudsing up and washing your breasts, but Jay doesn't complain. 

You lean out of the shower; naked and dripping all over the floor. "Do you want to join me?" you offer. 

His mustache curls up at the ends when he grins back. "Very much so, Cherry Girl. But, uh.. I'm not there yet."

"No problem," you smile. 

"I'd love to give you a few more orgasms before bed though, if that's okay." 

_How could you ever say no to that?_

"After I get this conditioner rinsed out, you got yourself a goddamn deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all for Sunday!
> 
> Did you enjoy their ghost adventure? And all the fun ways they're getting around the no-sex rule? Crazy kids! 
> 
> I we've only got a few more days left! I hope you're liking the story. Leave me a comment or reach out on [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/). I'd love to hear from you!


	29. Monday, September 21st 2020 8:00am - Jay's Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You bask in the afterglow before telling Jay more about your work.

You wake up the next morning at 8:00am to the sound of Jay’s phone. Talking Heads’ _This Must Be the Place_ plays with increasing volume until Jay grabs it and turns off the alarm. 

He really wasn’t kidding about the ‘few more’ orgasms, either. Jay brought you to shrieking ecstasy three more times before you literally fell asleep mid-kiss. Your body feels like you lost a boxing match to a nun; sore, but also blessed.

Jay’s the big spoon with his left arm under your neck and right arm tucked between your breasts. His hard cock presses into your lower back. You wiggle your hips against him and Jay groans into your hair. 

“In case you’re about to ask,” he yawns, “Yes- that is an erection, and yes- I am also happy to see you.”

“Well how wonderful! On both counts,” you smile. 

You roll away and move to perch yourself up on your right side. Jay’s giant hotel pillow covers the bottom half of his face and his long hair covers the other half. You comb his hair back behind his ear and he looks up at you with a single, sleepy eye. 

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” you say quietly before planting a kiss to Jay’s scruffy cheek. 

“My pleasure,” he grins into the pillow. 

“Oh the pleasure was all mine,” you chuckle before nibbling his earlobe. “Literally.”

Jay rolls onto his back to face you fully, but one eye is still closed. 

“No complaints here,” he declares as he stretches his arms out across the pillows. “I enjoyed every second of it.”

The tufts of hair under his arms begged to be tickled, but it’s probably too early to start up with that. Instead, you take one hand and scratch your fingernails gently across his chest.

"Am I a puppy now?" Jay asks with a crooked smile. 

"Well you have been a very good boy," you admit. Jay's cheeks go pink before your very eyes and you notice the color also flashes across his chest. He grins contentedly and lets you rake your fingers across his furry belly. A minute later, he grabs your hand and pulls it to rest over his heart. 

“We should get going if you’re going to start your workday,” he offers.

“But I don’t wanna,” you pout and throw the down comforter over your head. Jay rolls out of bed and walks to the bathroom. 

You realize too late that your foolish move is depriving you of the chance to see Jay’s naked walk across the room. By the time you pull your cover away, he’s already in the bathroom pulling on his navy blue boxers. 

_Goddamn it._

"So what are you gonna tell your boss about not being in the office?" Jay questions. The joints in his arms crackle and pop as he rolls his shoulders loose. 

"I dunno. I suppose I could say I'm afraid to get sick. Or that all of my grandparents died in the same freak orgy accident."

"Right, yeah. I mean, that's horrifying, but sure" Jay chuckles. 

"I don't know. Maybe I'll just try to write more horror stuff and crossover articles to make it up to her?"

"That… huh.." Jay thinks aloud. "That could be fun, I guess."

"You have a better idea?"

"Well you could do something on Red Letter if you want," Jay offers.

"You'd let me do that?" 

"Yeah. Oh course. You could watch us film an episode if that would help."

You jump out of bed naked as the day you were born and grab Jay by the shoulders.

"REALLY!?!"

"Yeah," he laughs. "But I don't know how interested people would be. We're all old as shit and we only have like a million subscribers. I think that white racist gamer guy has like fifty times that."

"Literally all white gamer guys on YouTube are racist," you sure him. "But I think that getting an inside look at RLM is an amazing reason to be away from the office."

"We're filming later today if you want to help," he explains.

"What?! Uhhhh, **_yeah_**. Of course I want to help."

"Sounds good. Let's grab some breakfast and go home. Were not filming till tonight, but I'll let Mike and Rich know you'll be coming."

"Again?" you wink as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I'm still a little sore from last night."

"You're gonna be the death of me, Cherry Girl."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The drive back to Jay's place is full of singing along to old punk classics. Jay seems to have a certain affinity for both ska and 80s new wave, so you play Reel Big Fish's cover of _Take on Me._

Of course, he knows every word.

Jay calls in an order to the South Milwaukee Cafe and you swing by to pick up breakfast. You text Will from Jay’s car. 

<< Still in Wisconsin. Probably will be here all week. No annulment yet, but things are going really well. 😉

You get a message back a few seconds later. 

>> _Damn! A winky smiley face? You slut!_

<< Thanks, Will. You’re sweet. 

_ >> I’m glad you’re getting some. David and I were all night with the puppy cause she was dry heaving all over the house. I look like hell. _

A picture message pops up of Will looking completely amazing in a scarf and dark sunglasses, hollowing out his cheeks while he sips on an iced coffee on his walk to work.

<< You look fucking perfect and you know it. 😜

_ >> Yes but I don’t FEEL good. _

<< ☹️ Be brave. I’ll be online before 9 if you need anything. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When you get home, Jay grabs a bubble envelope from the front porch. He heads inside and clears everything off of his kitchen table and you set to work.

You email Vanessa with your new opportunity.

[[[ Hey Vanessa. I've got a wonderful opportunity to get some behind-the-scenes info from a popular YouTube channel. I'll be observing their process for the next few days and will report back if this is something corporate would be interested in. Until then, here's the articles I'm working on for this week: ]]]

You stare down at your screen and……

_Oh shit._

What the hell are you going to write about?

...

You’ve solved the problem of WHY you’re not in the office, but you still have to crank out the same amount of content this week. 

Jay walks into the kitchen wearing his red and white flannel lounge pants and a pair of extremely comfortable-looking moccasins. He starts a pot of coffee and turns to rest against the counter and check his phone. The lack of any styling product in his hair makes it look impossibly soft. He tucks one side behind his ear and smiles bashfully at you.

“What?” he questions happily.

You sit back in the vinyl chair at the table and shake your head in disbelief. 

“You’re dressed like a elderly homeless man and it’s somehow _still_ working for me.”

Jay snickers loudly and his shrugging shoulders go up to his ears. He tries to hide his smile against his chest, but turns to look at you instead.

“Well thanks," he smiles. "What are you working on?"

"Just trying to pull a few new articles for the week."

He shuffles over to you at the kitchen table and kisses the top of your head. His hands gently massage your back and it feels so good you almost drool on yourself.

"You're amazing. I'm sure you'll think of something." 

Jay walks away and you have to lean out of the chair to get a proper glimpse of his ass as he leaves. 

You fingers find the keys again and the words simply flow out off you:

  * 27 Reasons Why Comfy is the New Sexy
  * 36 of the Best Halloween Decorations to Keep Up All Year Round
  * 13 Pieces of Awesome Bathroom Decor
  * Give Your Man the Gift of the Perfect Beard
  * Do You Have the Same Opinions on Chest Hair As Everyone Else?
  * 14 Tricks to Take Your Breakfasts to the Next Level
  * Literally Just 23 Photos of Hot Men in Cooking Aprons
  * 17 Romantic Ghost Stories To Warm Your Cold Heart (But Not Too Much)
  * Choose a Color and We’ll Recommend a Ghost Hunting Show 
  * 24 Of the Best Halloween Cat Toys for Your Little Demon
  * 33 of the Most Haunted Places in the Midwest
  * What Your Sleeping Position Reveals About your Personality
  * We Know Which Disney Princess You Are Based on Your Favorite Mustache
  * 19 Ways to Strengthen Your Foreplay Game
  * 12 Lesser-Known Erogenous Zones



And the ideas just keep coming. You write up another ten before you realize they’re getting oddly specific (“Top 10 Things I’d Like to Do to Jay Bauman” was honestly a bit obvious). 

You hit return a few times and add a note saying that you’d like to work on a Halloween-themed cocktail collaboration with Tasty; a companion-piece to the Horror-movie recipe article.

[[[ I’m thinking we could hit it from four angles - us, Tasty, Amazon, and the alcohol delivery with Prime Now. Let me know if you want me to proceed and if we want to monetize this one as a CPC or a CPS.]]]

Jay cocks his head slightly and clears his throat.

“What are those acronyms for?” Jay asks as he pours two cups of coffee. He walks over carefully and sets one down next to your computer. “Sorry to pry… you were just talking aloud while you were typing.”

“Do you guys not monetize through advertising?” you ask. 

“Well yeah, but mostly just through AdSense. We don't have any control over that. But, we don’t do sponsorships or anything.”

“Oh god, that sounds so nice,” you sigh as you grab the warm coffee mug. “Well Buzzfeed has a lot of ways to make money, but most of what I do involves creating clicks and sales. They usually give me a trending topic like Pink Drinks from Starbucks and I have to write like four articles about it. 

“But I’m able to keep my job because I like dreaming up new things. Like I want to do an article on horror-movie themed cocktails, right? Cause it’s fun and I like fruity booze. But if it doesn’t have high enough earnings potential, it won’t be approved.”

“They approve or reject your work before you write it?” Jay asks. 

“Yeah. Exactly. We work mostly with Amazon which makes things easier. But I’ll have to pick liquor that's available through their delivery app, choose movies that are currently _streaming_ on Amazon rather than physical copies - because streaming is much more profitable, and then find glassware and props through Amazon to photograph the drinks in."

Jay's eyes go wide as you elaborate:

"Then I do the actual writeup including all of the purchasable items, make sure that all of the links for the movies, ingredients, props, and cocktail glasses are easily accessible. I’m going to make the romance copy funny and include a lot of references from the actual movies, but they don’t care too much about that. Then Buzzfeed posts it and makes that money."

You run your finger tips together on both hands to signify how much mad skrilla Buzzfeed makes, but it seems to be lost on Jay.

"But to get to your question, CPC is ‘Cost Per Click’ and it means that we monetize through direct links… so we get money if someone just clicks on a product. And ‘Cost Per Sale’ is us getting a percentage of whatever sales are generated through our link. BuzzFeed loads every computer with a TON of cookies so we can track linked sales and bills the retailers accordingly."

Jay stares at your computer in silence.

"Then there's just regular ad revenue and the articles that are totally sponsored content - like my toothbrush review. And shit, the affiliate codes, too.

"If I were higher-level, I could negotiate for my own affiliate codes, but BuzzFeed would still take a cut."

Jay looks like a mixture of impressed and horrified. 

You take a healthy sip of coffee and wiggle excitedly in your chair.

"Ain't it magical?" you squirm.

"Wow. And I thought product placement was bad. That's… that's insane," Jay replies with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah. I'm not exactly passionate about the seven-layer-dip of monetization, but I like writing the actual articles. If I was allowed to create more engaging content, without as much pandering bullshit, I'd be doing it.”

Jay crosses his arms over his chest and scratches his chin. 

"Where would you do that?"

"Not sure, actually. Just somewhere that wants to increase their traffic or reach a bigger audience. If Red Letter ever wants to dabble in having an actual online presence, I could give you a few pointers.”

"We have a presence," Jay huffs. "Kinda. Our fans are just kinda… awful… sometimes. We'd like to interact with them. Jack and Rich did that alot in Pre:Rec, but the people were so fucking grotesque, they had to stop," he explains.

"Yeah, that happens. That's why you need a third party who's not on camera to help screen those assholes out. So you do an Ask Me Anything, but someone else screens out the guys who are only there to call you names and quote Mr. Plinkett. You'd actually get to interact with the ten percent of your audience that aren’t little assholes.” 

"Huh. That’s interesting."

"Or if you had weekly behind-the-scenes videos for your Patreon supporters. Maybe a place where fans could submit recommendations or tell you what kind of merch they'd actually want to buy. Use the RLM twitter to post interesting facts about the movies you’ve reviewed, do a cross promotion with Len Kabazinski or the Canadians. 

“You could have polls to figure out what movies to create commentary tracks for or pages for your recommendations. Spotlight all the best schlock filmmakers and post retrospectives on what makes a bad movie good...” 

"And all that comes with sponsored links and affiliate codes, I presume?" Jay teases.

Your shoulders fall and Jay seems to realize his joke might not have been as funny as he hoped it would be. 

"No, not with sponsored anything," you sigh. 

"Sorry.. I… didn't mean to.. uh…" Jay stumbles.

"It's fine. Half the time I think what I do is a joke, too."

"God! No no no! I'm just… I'm just so fucking old," he laughs. "I honestly have no concept of what all goes into a good media presence. None of us do. I don't think what you do is a joke at all! Or at least, it's way less of a joke than what I do for a living."

Jay’s green eyes look so sincere. Clearly, he thinks he overstepped. You smirk at him as best you can. 

"I like the idea of making people feel that their opinions matter and helping them feel involved and connected,” you explain. “I just wish it didn’t have to be so focused on money.”

“Well it can’t be all bad,” Jay smiles. He saunters over to the kitchen island and grabs his bubble envelope. He turns his back to you as he tears the package open. “I mean how else would I have found these?” 

Jay unfurls a new set of red and black flannel pajama pants. They look absolutely perfect for him, but they also seem strangely familiar. 

“Those are… wait. Where did you get those?” you question. 

“A really beautiful girl from Buzzfeed wrote up a whole article on them. I’ll admit, I don’t usually find myself on that site, but something about her description of these being THE perfect lounge pants for horror movie marathons really hit me.” He smiles wide and his golden whiskers curl up at the ends of his mustache.

 **_“You bought my pants?!”_ **you laugh as you stand up from Jay’s kitchen chair. “From my stupid article? I can’t believe you bought my fucking pants!” 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him close. 

“You’re amazing,” you whisper into his ear. 

“Nah,” he balks. “I’m a sucker for good marketing.”


	30. Monday, September 21st 2020 4:58pm - The Studio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You stop by the studio. Jay lets something slip.

Jay mostly leaves you to your work for the next several hours. When he comes in again around eleven, he’s changed into the red and black flannel pants.

 _He looks **phenomenal** in them. _

Well, he looks like a lazy lumberjack in them. But it fucking _works._

Vanessa is absolutely floored by both your “incredible initiative” and your “inspired idea” for the Amazon/Tasty/Buzzfeed horror movie drink cross-promotion. You feel like a complete sell-out, but at least you’re in the clear for the week. 

In the afternoon, Jay asks you a bunch of questions on how you felt about _After Last Season._

“Didn’t you watch that last week?” you inquire.

“Yeah, but we’re going to try for a spotlight episode tonight," Jay says as he empties the coffee grounds into the trash. "I just don’t know we have enough material to make it work.”

"I'm sure you can think of something. You guys are hilarious."

"Thanks, but I'm coming up blank on this one," Jay tsks.

You get up from the table and cross over to him as he washes the coffee pot out in the sink. You lean against the dishwasher to watch his calloused hands work. 

Your mind starts to wander as the tendons of his forearm ripple and flex handsomely. Jay dries his hands on a towel hanging on the oven door.

“Well it was clearly written by a madman," you reply. "It’s a mind-numbing combination of pointlessness AND incompetence, and is the single worst thing to have ever been preserved on film.”

"That's basically it, yeah," Jay laughs as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Well if anyone can make it watchable, it's you," you assure him. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You and Jay head to the studio a little after four. Mike and Rich are already there placing cameras up on the Best of the Worst set. 

"So Jay hasn't bored you to death yet?" Mike asks with a small chuckle.

"Not at all. Jay's kept me very entertained," you reply.

Mike's eyebrow slowly perks up as a wicked grin appears on his face.

"Oh reeeeeeaaaaaaaaly?" he says in a song-songy voice. Jay's eyes go wide and he looks at you nervously. 

You shrug in response.

 _Let Mike think what he wants to._ You don't care.

"Oh hey!" Rich peeps up from the refrigerator by the studio door. He pulls out a fresh bottle of water and offers you one. "You visiting again already?"

Now Jay and Mike _both_ look nervous. 

_Apparently, not everyone knows about your accidental marriage._

"What can I say? I just love this sweet Milwaukee air," you chuckle. 

"You have to be the only person in history that has ever thought or said that."

Jay moves to grab a few beers from the fridge.

"Then I guess I just like the company," you explain. Jay's shy smile in the light of the open refrigerator is heart-stopping. 

"Let's get this shit show on the road," Mike announces. 

Jay sets both beers on the green BOTW table and wheels the fourth chair over to where you're standing behind the cameras. He smacks the back of the seat and dust billows out of the fabric.

"Here you go, babe. Don't worry about making too…"

_Did he just…_

"... much noise back here. We..."

_Did he, uh..._

"... use the lav mics for audio. But try not to laugh too…"

_Did he just call you 'babe'?_

"... much or it will get picked up. That's assuming…"

_Does he realize what he said?_

"... we do anything remotely funny. But this..."

_Doesn't look like it._

"... shouldn't take too long." 

You try to adjust your expression from "stunned mixture of terror and joy" smile to "just really excited to be here" smile. 

It seems to work.

Jay checks to make sure no one else is watching before quickly pressing his lips to yours and running back to the set.

They run through their sound check and start the episode. All of the cameras, mics, and lights are already set up, so there's nothing for you to do but watch them riff off of each other. 

Still, you walk between the cameras, checking the view screens and imagining how this will look when it's all edited together. It's fun to be able to see all three shots - the single wide shot center stage and the two cameras set at 40 degree angles to the left and right. 

When you sit back down in the chair to watch, Mike shakes his empty bottle at you. 

You point to you own chest and Mike nods while Jay and Rich continue to argue some stupid point about the dialogue in _After Jay Season._

Mike again shakes his empty bottle and you finally understand. You stand up from your chair and go to the studio fridge, grabbing another beer for Mike, one for Jay, and a fresh bottle of water for Rich.

By time you make your way back to the set, Mike is waving you into the stage to deliver his beer. 

_Uuuuuhhhhhhhh…_

To be in the studio is more than enough to make you feel like you've died and gone to heaven, but to actually step on stage while they're filming an episode - that's _insane._

You stand off stage left with an arm full of frosty beverages as Mike continues to wave you forward. You look anxiously to Jay and he gives you a charming smile. 

"It's okay. We'll edit you out," he explains. 

"Oh! Okay, yeah. Good," you breathe. “Not that I wouldn't love to talk to you guys about this weird-ass movie, but I don't want your fans to make a subreddit dedicated to my calves or something.”

You finally take a step on set and feel the intense heat of the stage lights. It’s a wonder these guys don’t sweat through their shirts every episode. 

Rich gives his thanks when you set the water in front of him. You set down both beers for Mike and Jay and then walk back to your chair. Mike moves to throw the empty beer out into the studio, but thinks better of it and instead just rolls it off the edge of the table. He cracks the top off of his Spotted Cow and tips the bottle to you. 

“Thankya, ma’am.”

“I’ll be expecting a producer credit for that,” you smile. 

“That’ll be at least **_three_ **beers,” Jay retorts happily.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

They wrap everything up in about two hours. You do eventually wind up getting them three beers each, but you’re not holding your breath for this episode to make it to air. They certainly tried their best and there were some great moments, but Jay might have been right about _After Last Season_ being too boring to make a full episode. 

Jay rolls his sleeves up and pats the sweat off of his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. His hairy little stomach glistens under the bright stage lights and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

_Gotta keep focused._ You’re here to help. 

You pull all of the memory cards and pack up the cameras with Jay and Rich. Mike turns on the overhead lights and sweeps up the broken bottles from the floor. 

Jay winds up a black and yellow cable and the sight of his flexing muscles sets you off in a primal way. You lick your lip as Jay skillfully flicks his wrist to get the cord to lay just right. He finally looks up and sees you staring intently at his hands. 

“I know it looks a little strange,” he begins. “But this is actually how you should always roll cords. If you do a little twist here before you lay the cable down, it won’t get tangled when you unwi… _something something. Something something…”_

Genuwine’s _Pony_ starts to play at the front of your mind. Jay winds the cord in perfect time with the music:

dawh doOOow dow…. dawh doOOow dow...

_I’m just a dancer..._

_Looking for a partner..._

Jay throws the cord down and spins on a dime. He covers his eyes with one hand and rolls his entire body from head to toe.

_Someone who knows how to ride…_

_Without even falling off..._

A waterfall of molten metal sparks rains down behind him and he rips his shirt down the center.

Jay leaps onto the BotW table and grinds sensuously against the green top. He spreads his knees wide and beckons you forward with his hips.

_If you're horny lets do it, ride it, my pony..._

_My saddle's waiting, come and jump on it..._

"You wanna try?" Jay asks as he grabs his tear-away pants.

"Fuck yes," you breathe.

He slaps the cord in your hand and reality comes crashing down again. 

**_God damn it._ **

Jay smiles encouragingly and the fantasy is forgotten. You're happily lost in those two, perfect pools of emerald green.

Rich waves his goodbye as soon as everything is put away. You follow Jay into the office and Mike joins a minute later.

Boxes of merchandise teeter precariously against the walls. Old, broken equipment is piled up on every flat surface. You almost fall into a half-full case of SpaceCop BluRays on your way to Jay’s desk. 

"I thought you were going to organize this," you ask him. 

"I was, yeah. And then I found the marriage certificate and forgot."

"Oh god, you should have seen him," Mike giggles to himself.

"I can imagine. Do you need help putting this away?" you offer to both of them.

Mike shakes his head in the negative, but Jay nods enthusiastically.

"I honestly wouldn't say no to that," Jay sighs. "I'd like to work from the office more, but all the junk in here makes it difficult."

"Let's do that tomorrow then," you grin.

"You sure you're okay working from here?" 

"I'd love to," you assure him. 

"Mike's desk is right next to mine so we can be work buddies all day," Jay smiles adorably.

"Oh my god, that would be so amazing," you beam. "And we could get lunch together, too!"

"Okay, well it's not like either of you realize I'm even here, but I'm going to go," Mike teases.

"Bye."

"See ya."

Mike rolls his eyes and chuckles to himself. He waves over his shoulder on the way out. 

When you hear the lock lock behind Mike, you immediately step toward Jay.

"You know, I actually had a dream about you and me in the viewing room," you inform him softly. 

Jay flashes a surprised expression. 

"Are… are… are you serious?" he questions. 

"Of course I am!" you laugh. "I mean, I'd fool around with you in here, but I'm afraid of being crushed to death by boxes of 'Dick The Birthday Boy' t-shirts."

"Well it's not every day that I can make a girl's dreams come true..." Jay smiles. 

"I disagree."

Jay covers his shy smile with one hand. 

"...but if you'd like to see the viewing room again, I'd be happy to take you."

"Lead the way," you smile.


	31. Monday, September 21st 2020 8:18pm - Viewing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you read the chapter where the reader sees the Viewing Room for the first time and got upset that they didn't fool around in there? Well this is to make up for that. :)

Your heart beats out of your chest on the walk upstairs. Jay flips the light on and you step foot inside. He immediately locks the door behind you. 

"So what happened in your dream?" Jay asks in a low voice. His right hand settles on your hip before he backs you into the door. 

He rests his forehead against yours and reaches up to cup your face with both hands. 

"Actually, we were interrupted; by Freddy Krueger."

"What a jerk!" Jay laughs against your cheek before placing a kiss under your ear. 

"Mmmmm," you moan as his teeth find your earlobe. His hot breath pours over your neck and you lace the fingers of your left hand through his hair. "He was actually pretty nice. But did ruin my chance of making you cum in here."

"Oh right," Jay mumbles and moves away. "I'd love that, but I don't want to have to explain jizz stains on the couch," he chuckles. 

"Well…" you start. You hold your tongue to your canine as you push Jay against the movie wall to your right. A VHS copy of _InAlienable_ wobbles dangerously on the edge of the shelf. 

You run your hand down his neck, over the center of his chest, and hold it at his belt line. You kiss him once before sucking his plump bottom lip between yours and tease the tips of your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

"If you cum in my mouth, you won't have to worry about that," you purr.

"I… uh…" Jay stutters.

"No pressure, of course." You back away slowly before Jay nods.

"Yeah. I can do that," he grins. 

"Well then happy birthday to me," you smile back. 

You kiss down his neck as you make quick work of his jeans. 

"You have no fucking idea how much I've wanted to do this" you mewl against his ear as you pull down the front of his boxers. 

He's half-hard already. 

You fall to your knees in front of him and lick your lips. You wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him gently.

"You sure?" you ask him.

Jay looks down to you with dark eyes.

"Yeah. Absolutuuuuuuaaahhh," his words turn to gibberish as you take him into your mouth. His arms slam back into the video wall and five schlock movies crash to the floor.

"Fuuuuuck," he moans as his hands search for purchase on the shelves.

You moan around him; teasing his cock with your tongue. 

"Oh shit, fuck… fuck that feels so good," he pants. 

You keep a tight "O" to your mouth as you suck greedily at his dick.

Jay's head falls back against the shelves when your hand begins to stroke the base of his cock. 

"Fuck, I don't know how long I can last like this," he breathes. 

You pull your mouth away and a web of spit strings from his hard cock to your lips.

"As long as you cum down my throat, I really don't care how long you last," you pant. 

You lick his dick like a lollipop - running your tongue down every side of him before then twirling his tip across the flat of your tongue. Your hand continues to stroke the base of his cock. 

Your lips wrap around him again, taking him fully into your mouth. His bearded chin hits his chest as as he watches you work his cock. His long hair falls forward, framing his face with a golden halo.

"Fucking Christ, that… oh, fuck…" he growls. 

You take his inability to form a sentence as a good sign and increase your speed. Jay's body shakes hard each time your mouth pulls away, so you decide to focus on giving him more of that.

Your hand and mouth push lightly down to his base before you grip him harder and slide back toward the head of his cock. Jay's hands crash into the shelves in response and a half-dozen movies clatter down to the floor.

"Holy fuck," he breathes. "Fucking goddamn. Fuck. Fuck! Goddamn, fuck, that feels so fucking perfect."

 _Hmmm… so_ **_that's_ ** _what it takes to make him cum. Good to know._

You remove your mouth from him completely, but keep up the same pattern with your hand against his dick: soft in the way down, tighter on the upstroke.

You kneel down lower and tug his boxers down further. You ghost the fingertips of your opposite hand under his balls and watch his whole body shudder. 

Another five VHSs fall and Jay bares his teeth above you.

"I can't wait to taste you," you pant up to him. He looks down at you with a gaping mouth. "Don't stop till you cum in me."

Jay's eyes roll back in his head and he desperately holds the shelves. 

You clamp your mouth around him again, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his hard cock. You make sure to tug harder on the upstroke and swirl your tongue across his shaft on either side. 

"Fuck! FUCK!" he curses. "How the fuck are you even…? Goddamn... the fuck!? Fuck, you feel incredible."

The salacious sounds of his desperate little cries is the sweetest music you've ever heard. You begin to twist your wrist ever so slightly as you pull away from the base of his cock. 

"Jesus fucking Christ! Holy fuck," he groans. His hips begin to thrust into your mouth. You gag once and Jay pulls away.

"God, I'm so sorry," he breathes. "It just felt so good, I didn't mean to…"

You grab his ass with your free hand and pull him closer. His cock hits the back of your throat and Jay shouts up to the ceiling:

"FUUUCK!" 

His hips rock into your face as his cock fucks your mouth. 

"I… holy shit… fuck, I'm going to fucking cum," he growls.

Your fingers dig into the meat of his ass, forcing him further down your throat. 

"I… fuck… fuck fuck FUUUUUUUUCK!" Jay's hands slam against the wall and the shelf collapses behind him; bringing another ten tapes crashing to the ground. He roars out as his cum spurts across your tongue. 

You continue to pump against his cock as you swallow his release; humming around his manhood all the while. 

"FuuUuck. Ho… holy fucking shit…" he cries as you suck the last of his cum from his slit. You swallow again before licking him from base to tip. 

"I can't… you gotta… fuck… I…" Jay babbles as he moves away. You let go of his dick and wipe the back of your hand across your mouth before standing up straight. 

Jay's eyes can barely stay open as he wobbles in front of the nearly-destroyed VHS shelf. 

"Do you wanna… Do you.. uh… wamme to… Jesus…. uh, just gimme a sec…holy fuck... and I'll… get you right back… just… gotta..." He can't seem to create a coherent thought and your ego swells exponentially.

"Nah," you smile wide and kiss his bearded cheek. "I'm good right now."

He nods slowly and tries to catch his breath as he pulls up his boxers.

"Want me to put on a movie?" you smile. 

Jay stumbles over a pile of VHSs and collapses onto the viewing room couch. He rolls onto his back and groans. 

"I'd literally do anything you tell me to right now," Jay replies as he runs his fingers through the sweaty hair at his temples

" _Miami Connection_ it is, then."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It takes you a good minute to find _Miami Connection_ in the Red Letter Media library. Thankfully, they keep the DVDs and BluRays in a separate section in the adjoining room.

You grab the movie excitedly and head back to the viewing room. When you make it back, Jay is no longer on the couch. The door to the break room is open and you hear him rifling through the fridge. 

You walk to the DVD player and start up the machine. As soon as you set the disc in the tray, Jay walks back in. He's still breathing hard, but seems mostly put back together. 

Jay stands behind you while you pop the DVD in and grab the remote off of the coffee table. You turn back to him and smile wide.

"How was it?" you ask happily.

Jay takes a swig of water from his bottle and nods his head sharply. His cheeks bulge out; making him look like an adorable, mustachioed chipmunk for a moment before he swallows.

"Pretty uh... pretty fucking amazing, honestly," he answers. 

You press PLAY when the menu comes up and turn to face Jay.

"I'm glad," you answer. "You ready to watch some 1980's rock/taekwondo action?" 

Jay sets his water down on a coaster on the coffee table and shakes his head in the affirmative.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," replies. He pulls two more bottles of water from his back pockets and tosses them onto the shorter couch.

"Oh that's so sweet of you," you fawn. "But I'm not really thirsty right now."

"Maybe not now, _but you will be,"_ he says with a confident smirk. 

Every ounce of blood rushes straight down.

Jay crosses the room slowly and grabs the bottom of your shirt. He looks into your eyes, waiting for permission. You bite your lip before nodding happily.

Jay presses his lips to yours before running his tongue across your lower lip. He gently pulls your shirt up to your bra line and you help him remove it completely. Your bare arms come down to rest on his shoulders and he delicately runs his finger tips up your forearms, over your elbows, and down to your ribs.

Jay sucks your bottom lip into his mouth as his hands come to rest at the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttons your fly and draws your zipper down with his right hand. He pulls away slightly to watch your eyes go wide when his hand goes down the front of your panties. 

His rough fingers circle your clit and your body starts to shiver. Jay quiets your gasps when his lips crash into yours.

Jay's left hand holds the back of your neck as his right curls up into your wet cunt. He coats his fingers with your slick and moves back to your sensitive bud. He kisses down your jawline and drags his teeth over your pulse point. 

“I had a dream about you in here, too,” he breathes over your damp skin. Jay’s hands roam across the band of your jeans before he begins to plant soft kisses down the center of your chest. He gets down on one knee and his mouth makes its way to your panties. 

“But you didn’t have these on,” Jay smiles as he looks up to you and his front teeth cut dangerously into his bottom lip. Your brain doesn’t seem to be working at the moment, so you just nod quickly. 

_Give this man whatever he wants._

“I’m… yeah… I’m… MmmHmm… good,” you mumble. Jay hides his face against your thigh as he laughs brightly. He pulls your pants off of your hips before going back up to pull your panties down with them. He peppers tiny kisses over every new inch of your skin he sees. 

When your clothing hits the floor, you step away and Jay pushes everything under the coffee table. 

“I’m a little nervous that you’re not going to like what I do,” Jay explains. “So if I’m not doing something right, feel free to grab my hair and pull me to the right spot.” 

_“Pull... your..._ **_hair_** _?_ ” you ask with a shiver. “Can I… can I do that even if you ARE doing something I like?”

Jay laughs with his whole body and it’s contagious. Your shoulders shake as you watch him giggle. 

“Yeah, I’d like that very much,” Jay nods. You bend down; running both hands through the hair near his temples and kissing his forehead. 

“Where would you like me to sit?” you ask him.

“I’d like you to stand, actually,” Jay proposes. “At least for the first one.” 

He rubs down your right leg from your thigh to the back of your calf before patting his hand down on the center seat of the couch. You set your foot on the couch and look down to see Jay eyeing your exposed pussy. 

“You’re sure?” you ask him. 

Jay’s long lick over your cunt is a pretty definitive answer. You jolt forward and have to hold on to his shoulders to stay upright. 

“Holy shit!” you shout as Jay wraps his left arm around your leg. He moves closer and kneels down lower to wedge his shoulder just below your thigh. Two fingers from his right hand part your folds and tease your opening as he flicks the tip of his tongue at your sweet spot. 

You look down into Jay’s green eyes just before he begins to lick and suckle gently at your clit. You gasp loudly and reach behind your back to support yourself with your hand on the armrest of the couch. 

“Goddamn, that feels incredible,” you pant. Jay’s giggle against your cunt sends a shock wave up your spine. Your left hand claws into the upholstery and your back arches sharply. Just as you start to catch your breath, Jay stretches you open with two of his thick, calloused fingers. 

Your knees tremble, but Jay holds fast to your thigh. You reach down and rake your fingernails through Jay’s hairline; pulling him closer as you whimper his name.

“Jay… _fuck…_ fuck that feels so good.”

Over the next ten minutes, your hips roll into his mouth and he follows your every movement. The obscene sounds of his licking, sucking, and humming against your pussy fills the room.

You look at the tripods set up to the left and right of the tv screen and wonder if you should tape something like this next time. You'd love to see another angle of Jay on his knees; your hand gripping his hair as he eats your cunt. 

He wraps his lips around your swelling clit and flicks his tongue quickly over it. 

_The pleasure is blinding._

You grip his scalp and he groans against you. Your slick drips down to his forearm as he curls the fingers of his right hand up toward your g-spot. Your knees begin to shake as every muscle tenses. 

“I’m… oh, god… fuck… I’m close,” you roar. “Please don’t stoooo oh FUCK!” you feel your pussy constrict around Jay’s fingers, but he keeps his rhythm steady. His lips suck at your clit and the intensity is nearly painful. 

“Too much… it’s too good,” you whimper. Jay immediately switches tactics, lapping at your sensitive bud like a cat licking up cream. The new sensation makes your whole body shake and draws your orgasm so long you wonder if you had more than one. 

"FUUUUUUUCK! Fuck, fuck!' you roar as the pleasure radiates through your body. Jay's strong arm around your thigh and your fist full of his long hair are the only things keeping you upright. His prominent teeth nip at your clit and your body explodes. Jay buries his face in your folds and drinks hungrily as you scream to the ceiling. 

You collapse down on the viewing room couch, pulling Jay’s upper body with you. He doesn't miss a beat - his quick tongue flicks across your clit and sends jolts of electricity through your body. You have to tug his hair to get him to stop. 

"Fucking hell, Jay," you pant. "I.... fuck..."

He pulls your leg off of his shoulder and kneels next to you. The aftershocks of your climax make you shake periodically as you try to come back to your body. Jay's warm hand runs across your flushed skin. He wipes his face on his sleeve, but your slick still coats his beard. 

"Was that okay?"

"Jesus, fuck," you laugh. "If I have to move in with you, I'm throwing away my vibrator."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting so close to the end, everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story!


	32. Tuesday, September 22nd 2020 8:00am- Jay's House

Jay's alarm goes off and you wake again to Talking Heads’ _This Must Be the Place._ Surprisingly, this morning Jay is curled up around you. His face sits on your bare left breast and his arm is slung around your ribs. His left leg is pitched possessively over yours. You're both completely naked in Jay's warm bed.

After your oral adventures yesterday, you watched _Miami Connection_ in its entirety. Jay ate you out twice more on the couch as you tried to follow the inane plot. You left a puddle of your slick on the couch and hoped it would just blend in with beer stains. You wonder if it will show up on camera for the next episode. You run your nails through his hair and smile wide at the thought.

Jay still hasn't stirred when David Byrne sings:

_"The less we say about it, the better. Make it up as we go along…"_

You run your fingers through his shaggy hair.

"You need to get up, honey," you whisper.

_FUCK!_

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck!_

_Cover!!!_

"Hey Jay… _buddy…_ It's time to get up." You hope to god he didn't hear that first part. 

_Shit, is 'buddy' any better? Fuck!_

"Hhhmmmppffh," Jay groans. His hand flies back and crashes into his side table. His phone hits the ground and the song cuts out. And that seems to be good enough for him.

He wraps his arm back around you and nuzzles into your chest. His mustache scratches into your delicate skin, but you can't bring yourself to complain.

"JaaaAAAaaaay… We gotta get to the office today," you say before kissing the top of his head. "You gotta sort the merch and I have to come up with some bullshit to keep myself employed."

"Mmmphff," Jay mumbles into your chest. He kisses your breast twice before moving to lay on his back. 

"Fiiiine," he groans. "But only because you're beautiful."

"Oh really?" you laugh. You poke him in the ribs and giggle when he smiles wide. You throw your leg over his pelvis and lean down to bow raspberries on his hairy chest. "What else can I get for being beautiful?!" 

He puts on a cute show off struggling, but it's clear he loves the attention. He laughs hard into his pillow and rests his hands on your waist just above your hips. 

"I'm not sure. Would you be interested in a bottle-opener or limited-edition art print?" he teases.

"Sure," you reply. "That or a _Best of The Worst_ pint glass." You start to wiggle back and forth excitedly.

"That's… uh… that's… _sorry._ Uh, that's a rare… _uh..._ commodity," he informs you shakily. 

"Are you okay?" you ask with concern. 

"Yeah, no. No. Totally. Uh… totally fine," he replies. 

You look down to see his hard cock inches away from your center. All of your jiggling has pulled down the comforter across his lap and he’s now completely exposed.

"Oh my!" you chime. You wrap your hand around his base and pump his erection. You roll your hips against him with the same cadence. 

"Would you like to _claim_ me this morning?" you ask before biting into your bottom lip. 

"Uhh," Jay wavers. "No. I mean, yes, of course, but also no. Sorry." He stills your hand on his cock and moves to get up. 

"Jay! I'm sorry… god, I wasn't thinking I just… shit. Sorry.”

Jay stands up and rifles through the closest drawer for a clean shirt. He looks back at you with a crooked smile and shakes his head.

"It's fine. Really," he assures you as he pulls on his _The Warriors_ t-shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He runs his hand over your forehead and cups your cheek. 

"I was just so fucking close to saying yes…" he sighs. "I gotta get out of bed."

"I'm.. so sorry. Sure. Yes," you say as you stand up from the mattress. You pull your shirt off of the floor and thread your arms through the sleeves. "Cause we're light, flirty fun, right?" 

"Exactly. Yeah," he smiles. "Until the divorce. Then it's weekend visits and daytime sexting as far as the eye can see."

You try your best to smile. "Yep. Totally."

Jay sees right through you. He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips; kissing each knuckle delicately. He looks up to you with those fathomless green eyes.

"I like you; a lot," Jay confesses. "And I don't want to ruin everything by rushing in too fast, that's all. So let's just cool it off for today, okay?" 

Jay wipes a tear off of your cheek that you didn't know was there. 

"I think I can do that," you smirk. Your expression turns nervous: "No kissing, either?"

Jay chuckles once before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours. His hand rests on your neck while his thumb caresses your cheek.

"There's nothing on this earth that would stop me from kissing you, Cherry Girl."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You spend the first part of your day typing at Mike's desk as Jay sorts through the largest boxes. He’s stacking them into more manageable piles; with wearables on one side of the room and art prints and bottle openers on the other. Then DVDs and BluRays in the center.

You're doing your damnedest to focus on work, but Jay keeps lifting boxes above his head. The bottom of his shirt gets hiked up above his belt line when he raises his arms. It offers you a fine view of the curve of his abdomen and his perfect little tummy is begging you to be kissed. 

_Yes, yes. You’re very beguiling, Jay’s tummy. But you know I can’t. We’re playing it cool today, remember?_

"God, is it hot in here?" Jay asks. He pulls his sweaty hair back and your teeth grind together. You try to ignore it, but Jay keeps running his hands through that perfect, long hair and it’s driving you up the wall, through the roof, and 1,792 feet up in the sky.

You’ve completed ten articles already and you’re starting to bank a few of your extras; just in case you need to take time off of work for the annulment appointment. 

“Why don’t you put your hair back?” you ask without taking your eyes off of your laptop. "Like in a ponytail or a bun?"

“I don’t really know how,” Jay admits. “I’ve never had long hair before.” 

“I can do it for you,” you smile. Jay grabs a rubber band from his drawer and hands it to you. 

“This would be better with a hair tie, but this will work,” you tell him as you pull the band to your wrist. You stand in back of Jay’s chair and motion for him to sit down. When his back rests against the chair, he hangs his head back and looks up at you. 

“You’re too damn cute for your own good, Jay.”

He giggles brightly and shrugs his shoulders. 

“I’m glad you think so.”

You plant a kiss on his sharp nose and get to work. Jay sighs as you run all of your fingers through this hair from his hairline down to the nape of his neck. There probably is a brush somewhere in the studio, but you’re not about to give up an opportunity to play with Jay’s deep golden mane. 

You use your fingernails to gather up the front section of his hair and pull the rubber band down to cinch off a small ponytail. You pull the tail back through the band one more time to secure a small bun. 

When you finish, Jay stands up from his chair and tilts his chin straight down. He shakes his head back and forth and smiles wide when his bangs stay put. 

“Oh this is great!” he smiles. He turns to you and it’s just a gorgeous slap to the face. 

Jay with a man-bun is… _fuck…_

Your eyes squint from beholding the full glory of his hair. 

“Does it look okay?” he asks hopefully. 

You place both hands on his desk and breathe out hard as you stare straight down. 

“I… I... uh… If you had a shower here... let’s just say I need one. A long, hot showe… damn it, I’m just turning myself on more.”

Jay throws his head back in a hearty laugh. His shoulders shake as he giggles at your pain. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you… um… what’s the female equivalent of blue balls?” he asks. 

“Don’t know, Jay,” you quip. “But I got ‘em. I got ‘em bad.” Jay’s hand covers his huge smile. “You sexily moving things around the office, lifting stuff and getting all sweaty. And now you got a man bun and I’m just supposed to keep typing?” you laugh. 

“I’m creating a hostile work environment, I know,” he smiles. “Would it help if I took my shirt off?”

“You are just THE WORST!” you laugh. “Now you have to wear two shirts! All the shirts! I gotta cover every inch of you like a Victorian lady so you stop getting me all riled up!”

“I could go put on Grigg’s leather jacket from _Space Cop_ if that helps,” he offers with a devious grin. "Maybe one of the alien masks... if you’re into monsterfucking, that is.”

Your eyes narrow sharply at him. 

“You **_fucker_.** _”_

Both of his shoulders hike up to his ears as he laughs brightly. 

“Sorry,” he giggles. “I actually have to start work at my desk soon anyways."

“Gonna check in with all of the latest gossip on Reddit, are you?” You make your way to Mike’s desk and get back to work. 

Jay grabs his backpack from the corner and navigates a path back to his desk. 

“No, sadly. I have some copyright claims to negotiate for a few videos. _Ben and Arthur_ mostly. We like to get all of that agreed upon before we even try to include the movie in a _Wheel of the Worst_ or _Re:View."_

“Oh! That’s cool. I always wondered why you guys never seem to get flagged for that stuff,” you tell him; quite impressed.

“Yeah, we actually have a copyright lawyer on retainer for that,” Jay explains. 

“Fancy,” you smile. “Anything else on the docket?”

“Yeah. I’ve got another commentary track to edit and am trying to drum up some material for our Patreon exclusives. We’re trying to make plans to work with the Canadians back at some point, so we gotta figure out how to get them here. 

“Then we’re using a new artist for some more merch stuff, so I’m looking through his designs now. There’s a lot of fanmail to go through, too. 

“Oh, and I’m helping with the Milwaukee Film Festival for this October, which is probably going to have to be all virtual this year, so I’m communicating with a ton of people on that.” 

“Holy crap, Jay! That’s.. wow.. that’s a lot!

Jay shrugs softly and nods. “Yeah. It can be. Plus I’ve had a beautiful woman distracting me for the last week, so I’ve fallen a little behind.”

You shake your head sternly. “She sounds like a bitch.”

Jay huffs at his desk before looking over to you with a big smile. “A sexy bitch.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You and Jay stay focused on working at your respective desks for the remainder of the afternoon. Jay picks up El Fuego tacos for lunch and they’re fucking amazing. He made sure to buy Mexican Coke and it’s just the perfect accoutrement. 

You’ve done more than enough work for the day by four and decide to start unpacking all of the Red Letter Media merch. You fold every shirt and mark them all with a piece of masking tape with the size written in big, black letters. Each shirt gets stacked up on a pile somewhere on the large metal shelves at the back of the office. 

By the time seven rolls around, you’ve folded and stacked all of the shirts and hoodies, organized all of the bottle openers and art prints, and shelved all of the new BluRays. You borrow a knife from Jay and start to break down all of the giant cardboard boxes. 

You pile all of the cardboard in a huge stack in the front waiting area and make your way back to Jay’s office. He’s rubbing both temples as he stares at the screen. 

“I think you should probably call it a day, Jay. It’s getting late,” you tell him softly. 

“Huh?” he asks as he looks back up at you for the first time in god-knows-how-long. He stands up at his desk and marvels at the office. 

“Holy shit?! How did you finish everything so quickly?”

You smile sweetly and cock your head to the side. 

“Well I’m not a genie, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you chuckle. “I’ve been working at it for three hours.”

“For how l… oh god... “ Jay peers down at his laptop for the time. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry! I’ve been answering a ton of technical questions from people on the film festival’s Facebook page.”

“I can’t blame them. I would have been thrilled to ask you a question on Facebook."

“Oh, I’m using a pseudonym. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself, but I really enjoy helping new film makers get their work seen.”

“Really? That’s so sweet,” you coo. You walk to his laptop to see his internet nom de plume. “Alan Smithy? Come on, Jay,” you giggle. 

“The director of _Hellraiser 4_ should be honored, ba…” Jay winces and runs his hand down his face “… basically.”

He looks to you nervously and you do your absolute best to pretend you didn’t almost hear him call you ‘babe’ again. 

“Is your head okay?” you ask him as a change of subject.

“It’s… yeah. It’s not feeling great. But let’s get some dinner and maybe it’ll be better soon. I just gotta stop staring at this screen.” 

“Yeah! Let’s go home and stare at another screen!” you laugh. 

“Actually,” Jay starts. He closes his laptop and shoves it into his bag before continuing. “How, uh… .how would you feel about… making a short film together?”

“What tonight? With me?” you chuckle as you pack up your computer. “But I don’t know how to do anything.”

“That’s not true, you have a great eye and you’re really creative,” Jay assures you. “I just… you had mentioned that you missed out on growing up with movie-making nerds. I was hoping to help you experience at least a little of it. No one has to see it but us, and we’ve got time.”

“I… wow,” you stutter excitedly. “What would I even do?”

“We could do a little 48-hour film festival short. You can write down a bunch of things you’d like to make a movie about and I can pick one out of a hat. Then we write a short script or outline, shoot it, edit it, and screen it in two days. Maybe this weekend? I mean, our timeline would be a lot more flexible, though.”

 _Why are things getting blurry?_ Must be really dusty in here. 

“No! The two days! I want to do it just like you do!” you tell him as you wipe your eyes. 

“Okay. Then let’s brainstorm tonight. I’ll get pizza from Transfer and we can get a plan together,” he smiles wide. 

You wrap your arms around him so hard he gets the wind knocked out of him. You feel him nuzzle into your neck and breathe deeply. 

“Thank you, Jay!”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Jay’s headache didn’t get all that much better after dinner, but he seems to be feeling better by that evening. He gives you a notepad to write down all of your ideas for your 48-hour film and you write at least forty down before you notice Jay rubbing his temples again. 

“Still bad?”

“Yeah,” Jay admits. He starts up an episode of Hannibal on his bedroom tv and turns the volume way down. “I took some medication, but it’s taking its sweet fucking time working.”

“Come here,” you offer. You set your notepad and pencil down on the far side table and turn off your light. You hold out your arms to him and smile gently. “I’ll do that for you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jay apologizes. 

“But I’d like to,” you reply. He nods slowly and pulls his shirt off before getting back in bed. You sit up against the apolstered headboard and Jay rests his head in your lap. His left arm wraps around your legs and he holds you firmly.

Jay’s beard pokes through the thin flannel of your pajama pants in a dozen places. It itches like hell, but you’re not about to complain. 

You delicately remove the rubber band from his man-bun (damn), and brush through this hair with your fingertips. Jay sighs softly as you alternate between playing with his hair, scratching his scalp, and rubbing small circles against his temples. Streaks of silver sparkle at the crown of his head make him look timelessly handsome in the pale moonlight of the room. 

“Does this feel okay?” you ask quietly. 

“MmmmmHmmmpppph,” Jay mumbles into your thigh. His arms go slack at your sides.

You giggle silently, trying your best not to shake and disturb him. 

His features soften as the pain seems to drain from his head. You run your fingers down his sharp nose and over the tiny, perfect wrinkles near his eyes. You study each scar on his face, each tiny freckle and mole; trying to commit them all to memory. 

When you begin to run your nails down his neck to his shoulders, he snores quietly. 

“Get some sleep,” you whisper. You bend down to place a tender kiss to his forehead and the words spill out of your mouth... 

“I love you.”

…

… 

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jay with a ponytail/manbun. My goodness.
> 
> Also, "through the roof, and 1,792 feet up in the sky," is a Rem Lezar reference. Thanks, DeviantDr.Kate!


	33. Wednesday, September 22nd, 2020 7:30am- Jay's Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clawfoot bathtubs are the best places for melancholy.

You're up early and hoping a warm bath can clear your head.

So you didn't so much as "sleep" last night as you more "stared blankly at the 'Are You Still Watching?' screen on Netflix” for a few hours.

_Did he hear you?_

You can't afford to be in love with Jay. It's not the right time or the right place. You're at different points in your lives. Plus he clearly doesn't want anything serious. He said point blank he didn't want a relationship. 

"Fuck," you say out loud. You sink into the warm water until it just touches the bottom of your lips. You play with the hot water faucet with your toe. 

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," you sputter into the water. 

You hear a knock at the bathroom door and Jay opens it by a few inches. He calls out your name from the doorway.

"It's it okay if I come in?" he asks.

"Yeah… yeah, that's fine. Come on in." 

He's just going to grab something and head back to bed. Then you can get back to freaking the fuck out and convincing yourself you're not actually in love with the incredibly handsome, sweet, intelligent, amazing man on the other side of those curtains. You sink down further into the water to rinse the conditioner out of your hair. 

"Good morning," comes Jay's warm voice on your right. 

You turn your neck to see him peeking through the opening of the wrap-around shower curtains. He keeps his eyes focused on yours. 

"Hi," you try. His beautiful green eyes look so soft in the morning light it makes your heart melt. You muster the best smile you can. "Good morning."

He leans down and places a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“Enjoying the tub are we?” 

“I am, actually,” you smile. “I love clawfoot tubs. Although I feel I should be drinking absinthe and reading depressing poetry in here.” 

"As one does, sure," he snickers. "Would it be okay if I joined you?" he asks as he kneels by the bathtub.

"I never want to turn that down, Jay," you laugh. "But I thought we were cooling off for a bit?"

"I'm feeling pretty strong-willed today," Jay smiles. "Plus, I'd love to give you a proper thanks for helping me sleep last night, if that’s okay."

"Actually. Could you just… _hold_ me for a bit?" you ask him. 

Jay tilts his head slightly and searches your eyes. 

"Are you okay?" he asks with concern.

"Yeah. I am. I just need you. Not in the sexy way, if that's okay. 

"Sure. Yeah. Of course. But uh… pay no attention to the erection, though. I can never talk any sense into him."

Jay removes his striped lounge shorts and boxers and you move away from the back of the bath. He steps into the tub behind you and settles down. His legs glide next to yours as he gets situated. Thankfully, the tub is big enough for both of you. But only _just._

You lay back on his fuzzy chest and his arms wrap around you. His hand finds your hairline and you sigh.

"You sure you're okay?" 

"Ugggh," you groan. "Yeah. Kinda. Mostly."

"What's going on?" 

You watch the soapy water cling to the hair on his legs. His erection pokes into your lower back, but your mind is elsewhere. Jay grabs the navy-blue shower puff from the water and pulls it up over your breasts. You close your eyes and settle back against him.

"What if I can't keep it light, Jay?"

He holds the soapy puff over your heart as he tries to think of something to say. 

"If… if you… if we... can't… uhh…" he trails off. "I… don't…. Um… I… um…"

"I know, I know," you breathe as you nuzzle into his arm. "I feel bad even asking you that, cause I know what happens."

"I…. 

…

Umm...

…"

"It's okay, Jay," you sigh. "I get it. All of this ends and we go back to… nothing, I guess." 

"I'm sorry," he says before gripping you tight. You feel him kiss the back of your head. "I'm terrible at relatio... I can't... you shouldn't be with someone who can't... I'm really sorry."

The faucet drips twice while you try to put yourself together.

"It's not a problem," you sniffle. "I was just wondering. I'm not, um.. I'm not saying that's what's happening. Just gotta be vigilant, you know. Keep it light."

"Yeah.... I… I get that. I think maybe it's just living together for the week maybe has us… feeling close, I guess," Jay tries.

"And being around each other all day every day, I'm sure," you add.

"Right," he agrees. "And sleeping together every night."

"And all the orgasms," you chuckle. You feel Jay's laughter rumble across your back. You cherish the feel of his beard as he nuzzles the back of your head. "So do you want to try to spend less time together, or maybe sleep in separate rooms?" you propose.

"Uhhhh… no," Jay says simply. "We just... you know… like you said… gotta keep an eye on it."

You smile despite yourself and crane your neck to look back up at him. 

"You're so handsome. Did you know that?" you ask him.

"I've seen some fairly thirsty tweets. But those were mostly from 'straight' guys,” Jay laughs as he makes finger quotes. “I like that you think so."

Jay leans down and presses his lips to yours. The strange angle has both of you stretching to meet one another. Your tongues meet outside of your mouths; lapping and teasing each other lazily. His left hand caresses the side of your neck before he moves back and smiles shyly. 

"Could I… try something… I've… I've actually always wanted to do?" Jay asks. He peers down at you serenely and you'd agree to anything. _Absolutely anything._

"Sure," you smile. "But if you're thinking of reenacting the dick pill commercials, we actually need _two_ tubs. And I think we need to be on a beach. Also, I know you're forty now, but your cock works just fine, so I don't think you need them.”

Jay's head falls down onto your shoulder as he laughs.

"Well thanks for noticing," he giggles. "But actually, I was thinking of something else."

"I'm game," you assure him. 

"Okay. Good," he smiles. "Then lay back for me."

You do as you're asked and relax fully onto Jay's bare chest. His right arm moves back over your breasts before his hand drops below the water line. You feel him glide over your right thigh and between your legs. 

You feel Jay moan behind you when he slips a finger inside of your cunt. 

"Goddamn, I love how wet you get for me," he whispers into your ear. 

"I'm sure most of this is bath water," you smile. 

Jay chuckles softly and the water splashes around his ribs. His laughter quickly fades as his left hand moves under your arm to palm your breast. He pinches your nipple slightly between his thumb and index finger and watches your breast bounce when he lets go.

You lay your head back to give him a better view of your chest and Jay pants against your neck. He massages the whole of your breast and his erect cock presses hard into your back. 

His right hand keeps up a slow, deliberate pattern; running two fingers up and down either side of your clit a half-dozen times before plunging inside of your pussy. You breathe in steamy air above the bathwater and appreciate the faint smell of Jay’s pine-scented soap. 

Your hips begin to roll against his hand as you search for more friction. You hook your right foot over the edge of the bathtub and spread your legs.

"You've always wanted to drive a girl crazy in your bathtub?" you pant. 

"No," he whispers. "Just you."

His fingers vibrate against your clit and your whole body jolts. Soapy water sloshes out of the tub near your chest. 

Jay's trying something new and goddamn are you enjoying it. His middle and index fingers slide against each other rapidly, making his fingers flutter quickly against your stiff bundle of nerves.

"Fuck! Holy fuck! Oh my god, never stop doing that!" you moan. 

Jay smiles before his left hand roughly grips your breast. His fingers slow around your clit; now moving determinedly to massage either side. 

He plays with your body for god-knows-how-long, bringing you right up to the edge of the cliff before switching speed and method. You'd be dripping down to your knees if you were standing up. 

Again and again, he takes you through a rollercoaster of pleasure. Your hips buck desperately against his hand as you moan his name. You're so fucking close you can taste it, but he continues to draw it out further.

"I can't take any more. Please."

"Please what?" 

His bold question sends a shockwave down your spine and makes your nipples pebble taut.

"Please make me cum for you," you moan.

Jay's nose smoothes against your ear as he breathes you in. "Anything for you, Cherry Girl."

His fingers focus back on your swollen clit. 

"Oh, god! Please don't stop, Jay. Christ, that feels so fucking good."

His left hand kneads your breast roughly and his cock digs sharply into your back. You crane your neck back to kiss him, but his lips are too far away. You pant into his open mouth and share the same hot breath as your tongues search for one another. 

Your pained gasps fuel him on as he continues his perfect rhythm. The bathwater splashes around Jay’s arm while he works you. 

"Jay. Fuck! Fuck, I'm going to cum. Please don't stop. Please… oh my god!'

The dam breaks and your scream bounces off of the walls of the bathroom. Your eyes roll back in your head and your body spasms so hard that Jay has to hold onto you with both hands. Your legs shake and splash the now tepid water across the floor. 

"Fuuuuuuuck…" you moan as your reach back and dig your fingers into Jay's left shoulder. 

The water continues to slosh over the side of the tub as your body trembles with aftershocks. Jay keeps his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. You whimper softly as the last of your orgasm abates. 

"I got you," he whispers. "It's okay."

You take a moment to catch your breath and enjoy the feel of his chest hair against your cheek. You're sure you could stay there listening to his strong heartbeat all day if he'd let you. But his hard cock against your hip grabs your attention. 

You hold out both hands to the sides of the tub to pull yourself away from him. Jay watches you closely as you stand up in the tub between his legs before stepping out onto the bath mat. 

You stand, naked and utterly sated, outside Jay's claw-foot tub.

"Get up," you smile groggily.

“Are you okay?” he asks, quite puzzled. Without you in the tub, the water sinks down significantly. Jay’s chest and most of his stomach are all above the water line. His nipples begin to tighten as they’re exposed to the cooler air of the room. 

"I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking,” you laugh. You take a breath and wet your lips. “Its just that I’m going to suck your cock right now, and I don't want to drown in there - so please stand up.” 

Jay pulls the plug to let the water drain and stands up naked against the bath. You notice him checking out your ass in the large mirror across from the tub.

“You _do_ like to watch, don’t you?” you grin at him. Jay hides a toothy smile against his chest and you move closer. You draw your finger up the center of his chest and gently pull his chin back up so that he faces the mirror. Jay sighs when you begin to ghost your fingertips around the head of his cock. He steps onto the bath mat next to the tub.

You kneel down between Jay’s legs as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. A bead of cum seeps from his slit and you lick it away with the tip of your tongue. 

“Mmmm," you whisper. "You can keep watching,” you tell him before taking him fully into your mouth. His head falls back and he pants loudly when you swirl your tongue over the head of his cock. 

“Fuck…” he growls. “Your mouth is so fucking perfect.”

His eyes face forward; watching his reflection in the mirror as your head bobs below his waist. You take him as far into your mouth as you can; bringing your hand up to pump the base of his dick. Jay runs his fingers through your hair with his right hand before gripping it tight. 

He directs your pace with his hand; pulling your face forward until you nearly choke on his cock. When he tugs your hair back, you peer up to watch him gazing into the mirror. Not at himself, but at your naked form between his legs. You pump against the full length of his cock and delicately palm his testicles with the opposite hand. 

Jay holds your head in place and you take him in again. His hips roll; plunging his dick further past your lips. Jay shudders at the incredible feeling of fucking your mouth. He drops his hand and pulls away, but you follow his movement and keep your rhythm steady.

“Shit… god…sorry… That just... feels so fucking good. Is that okay?” Jay breathes. You hum your encouragement and he moans while he grabs a handful of your hair. He holds your head in place again before plunging his cock into your open mouth. You keep your hand wrapped tightly at his base so you don’t choke on his swollen member. 

You hum against him and his mouth falls open with a whimper.

"Goddamn, you feel so fucking good," he growls. You moan against his cock, sucking him for all he's worth. 

“Oh god. Goddamn. Fuck! I’m going to cum!’ he roars. His hips begin to whip erratically into your mouth as he nears his peak. He looks down and watches his hard cock plunge between your swollen, red lips.

“Christ, you are so _fucking_ beautiful,” Jay confesses desperately. 

His shoulders draw up to his ears before his body seizes up. You keep the same pace he set and Jay bares his teeth in pained bliss as he climaxes hard across your tongue. 

“Holy fucking _FUCK_ ,” he moans as he peers down to you. You meet his eyes with your own and he watches you swallow every bit of his seed; panting across his cock while you lick him clean. You milk his dick for every drop, sucking hard while you stroke him through his orgasm. 

Jay’s knees start to shake and he has to hold on to the tub with both hands. 

“Christ, what are you even doing to me?” he breathes desperately. You can’t help but giggle and the feeling around his sensitive cock is enough to bring him to his knees. He almost knocks you over, but has enough wherewithal to lean to his left and before collapsing onto the floor.

Your small giggle turns into roaring laughter at Jay’s naked form; half on the bathmat, half on the tile. The tips of his long hair stick to his handsome face as he lies motionless on the floor. 

“You okay, Jay?” you ask between fits of giggling. 

“Fucking... Goddamn... shit. Uh... actually... I have never felt better,” Jay breathes. He rolls onto his side and looks up at you through his wet bangs. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You stand up next to the tub and look down at him sweetly. 

“I’m glad you think so. But, if I may say… I think you need a shower,” you tease.

“Yeah. That would be…. Just let me… get… up... “ He tries to maneuver his way up, but gives up almost immediately. “Jesus… are you a fucking vampire or something?”

“Not that I know of,” you assure him and hold out your hand to help him up. “Maybe you’re just starting to feel your age,” you wink. 

“Oh that’s it!” he laughs.

As soon as Jay gets both feet under him, he grabs you around the hips and picks you straight up. He walks both of you back to the bathroom counter and sets you down near the sink. Your knees open and Jay settles himself between them with the front of his thighs pressed against the cabinets. 

“I don’t think it’s my age,” Jay maintains as he runs his mustache over your jawline. “I think it’s you.”

His sticky cock lines up perfectly to your wet center. You feel his hips roll against you, sliding the length of his shaft across your clit. His mouth finds yours and you open to him with a whimper.

“I… uh.. “ Jay starts.

“Oh! Shit. Right. Yeah.” 

“I wasn’t..”

“Exactly. Just got a little…”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Okay, yeah.”

You stare at each other, bare-ass naked, wrapped together on Jay’s bathroom countertop before laughter begins to sputter out of you both. 

“Goddamn it, “ Jay laughs as he backs away from you “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you reply after sliding down from the sink. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Although…” Jay starts. A big, crooked smile appears on his face. “Maybe we can revisit this set up when the divorce comes through?”

“Take a shower, you filthy boy,” you tell him. “And make sure it’s a cold one!” 

Jay rolls his eyes and steps back into the tub. The water starts up and he pulls the shower curtain shut. 

“I’m going to go get changed and start work," you tell him. "Do you want me to make some coffee?”

“Yeah,” Jay says as he begins to lather up his hair and beard. "I'll be right down.'

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You towel dry your hair in Jay’s room and grab a fresh pair of underwear from your bag in the corner. Even though you did bring your own pajama pants, Jay’s just seem to be better in every way.

You throw on an old black and gray set of lounge pants from his drawer and get dressed for another day of work at Jay’s kitchen table. You check your phone to see if you’ve missed anything important. No news is good news. 

When you finally get down to the main floor of the house, bacon is just beginning to sizzle in the cast iron pan. 

“That smells so amazing!” you praise.

You walk breezily into the kitchen to find all of the ingredients for breakfast laid out on the island and a short, beautiful figure working hard at the stove. 

_Just not the one you were expecting._

“So I finally get to meet my son’s mystery woman!” Sandy Bauman smiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my! It's about time you met the family, wouldn't you say?


	34. Wednesday, September 22nd 2020 8:30am- Jay's Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the Emmy Award for Most Awkward Interaction goes to....

“Uhhhh….”

“I’m Sandy; Jay’s mom.” Her thick Wisconsin accent makes it sound like she’s saying “mam.”

All the color drains from your face as the lovely, happy woman smiles serenely at you. Her green eyes shine bright; complimented nicely by her subtle purple eyeshadow.

“Oh, don’t be shy! It’s okay. I’m not a prude!” 

_How the... when did... Fuck! What is even happenin..._

She motions for you to sit down at the kitchen island and pours you a cup of coffee. She hands it to you before both of her hands fly up to her face. 

“Oh, I completely forgat. Do ya want any cream or sugar? I don’t think Jay has any cream…”

You sputter into the hot coffee. 

“I… *cough*... I don’t think he does, no,” you try. “Black is fine, though.”

Sandy goes back to the bacon and flips them once with a set of tongs. She whips a fork through the eggs and adds a dash of milk. 

There are so many questions you want to ask… like _What the hell?_ And _Did you break in? Did you hear me naked wrestling your son?_ But all you can do is pretend you're not terrified.

“So how long have ya known Jay?”

You crane your neck to look behind you, hoping to god Jay’s there. No such luck. 

“I… I actually… I met him about ten years go. In Minneapolis,” you explain shakily.

“Oh how funny! I have a few girlfriends from college that settled in that area. We took Jay to the Mall of America when he was a little boy.”

“Really?” you ask with genuine interest. Sandy nods as she shreds a small brick of cheese.

You decide to keep her talking about Jay so she doesn’t ask more questions about you.

“So... uh... What was Jay like as a kid?”

“Such a sweet boy. I mean, he did all the weird videos all the time, but that’s just him. Oh! He’d make little movies for all of us over the halidays. He’d narrate the whole thing, too! I have a whole claset full of tapes if ya ever want to watch some.”

“I _absolutely_ do,” you grin. 

“So, have ya lived here long?” Sandy asks as she cleans her hands on a tea towel. 

“I actually don’t live here. I’m from Chicago. I’m a… writer… there. I’m just visiting.”

“A writer, hah? Oof, that’s so creative! Probably why Jay likes ya so much,” she laughs. “I know cause he wont tell me a darn thing about ya,” she beams. 

Her teeth are a little different than his, but there’s something so familiar about her smile that you can’t help but smile back. 

“Normally we’re heading up to the cabin right now to pull the dock in, but it’s so darn nice out that I think we can wait until October. We should set the pontoon out for this weekend if you’re free.”

“I don’t know if I…”

“Whaaaaat the fuck?” comes Jay’s booming voice from behind you. He stands at the entrance of the kitchen in his boxers and a white t-shirt. “MOM?! Shit! What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I was dropping off some new clothes I got for Tyler-” Jay’s mom stops and turns to you. “-that’s my grandson across the street.”

“I’ve met him. I think he looks exactly like Jay,” you smile. 

“Oh, ya don’t even know! I gotta drop off some baby pictures for ya. They’re just little twins,” Sandy declares happily. 

“Absolutely not!” he groans. Jay continues to glare at her but she laughs him off. She pulls the bacon out of the pan and sets the strips on a paper towel to dry. 

“Anywho, I did a Costco run yesterday and picked up a nice winter jacket for Tyler and I wanted to take it to your sister's house this morning before he went to school. I got some of that toothpaste you like, but then I thought maybe you could use a sack of oranges because your father and I can’t eat a whole case by ourselves...”

“OH MY GOD!” Jay groans and covers his face with both hands. “This is so fucking embarrassing.” 

Sandy looks at you and rolls her eyes. 

“Your girlfriend and I were having a perfectly lovely time before ya got here, Jerry Jay Bauman.”

“She’s not… we’re not dat… don’t call me… GOD, Mom!”

“When I was younger, ya were either _dating_ or ya _weren’t_ dating. And I don’t know all the fancy new terms for what you’re doing, but I’m just happy yer happy,” she says as she pours the bacon grease into a jar on the kitchen counter. 

“For the love of god mom, please leave,” Jay says exasperated. His face is bright red as he runs his hands down both cheeks.

“Fine, fine!” she replies and walks to the kitchen table to grab her jacket off the back of a chair. “I put some cinnamon in your coffee maker, honey. It tastes so much better that way. I don’t see how ya can drink it black all the time,” she tells Jay over her shoulder. “That’s how your dad got that ulcer.”

He pushes her gently to the front door. 

“It was lovely meeting you!” she shouts from the entryway. “Honestly, Jay. I don’t see why you’re so doggone cranky. She’s seems a nice girl, you should take her up to the cabin this weekend.”

“Oh my god, BYE MOM!!!” Jay shouts before closing and locking his door.

He slams his head into the wood a half dozen times. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

You wait to hear Sandy’s car door shut before you break into hysterical laughter. 

“That was fucking amazing!” you shout. 

Jay’s head still nudges the wood weakly. 

“Come on! It wasn’t that bad!” you insist. “She was really nice!”

“I….. wanna….. diiiiiiieeee…..” he groans. 

“Your mom was right, you ARE dramatic!” you giggle. 

Jay’s head whips back to you with wide, disbelieving eyes and you laugh hard. 

“I’m just kidding! Sorry! She was only here for like two minutes before you came down!” 

The faintest hint of a smile appears on Jay’s face. 

“One more laugh,” he warns, “and no pancakes for you.”

You nod your head in agreement and button your lip. You want to call him Jerry, but the intense red color of his face tells you he might not be up for that right now. 

“No problem, Jay.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It takes Jay a solid half hour to get back to normal after his mom leaves. You decide not to press the issue and keep the topics of conversation away from family matters. You sit on the kitchen counter as he makes the rest of breakfast. 

After you’re both full of pancakes and scrambled eggs, you try to distract him by asking him about movies and music. You type down some notes absentmindedly.

“What do you think are the best ‘introduction’ horror movies?” you pose. 

“Oh, that’s a fun question. Is this for work?” he asks. 

“I wasn’t thinking that, but sure. I could use it for work.”

“Well I did ruin your Monday and Friday, so I should probably help you make up for lost time,” Jay smiles. “I think my favorites are _The Gate_ , _Gremlins_ , um… The original _Night of the Living Dead_ is actually great for that. Plus _Ghostbusters_ has its moments. And _Shawn of the Dead_ is the gold-standard.

“You know, _Scream_ is actually a great intro, too. _Suspiria_ can be amazing if you’re into more bizarre stuff. If you're in the holiday mood, _Krampus_ was really good. And _American Psycho_ has such a great fucking soundtrack,” he adds.

You type as quickly as you can, trying to get every movie into your open document. When you come to _American Psycho,_ you pause. 

_"'Ya like Huey Lewis and the News' ,_ Jay?"

He smiles at your [line from the movie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ruw9fsh3PNY) and continues the quote: 

_"'Their early work was a little too New Wave for my taste,'"_ he smiles wide. Jay gets up quickly and walks to the living room.

"Jay, if I go in there and you have an axe and raincoat on, so help me, I'm running away."

He laughs from the other room and you hear his record player open. _"'In 87, Huey released this: their most accomplished album.'"_

Jay drops the needle and _Hip to Be Square_ begins to blast out of his speakers.

 _"'It's their undisputed masterpiece,'"_ Jay quotes as he does a rigid little Patrick Bateman dance. You join him as he walks backwards on his socks, snapping his fingers to the beat. 

He bites his lip and brings both arms up at right angles; swaying his forearms in an adorable display. 

"You're so fucking cute," you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

"Why thank you," Jay smiles and rests his hands on your hips. He kisses you softly and smiles. "And thank you for the opportunity to finally play this damn record. I've literally been waiting like fifteen years for that."

"Well if you help me with a few more articles, maybe I can cut out early and we can go through your whole collection."

"I wouldn't subject anyone to my full Weird Al library, but we can go through my albums later, sure."

He smiles so beautifully your heart hurts. 

Despite the fast tempo of the song, you sway together slowly. You cup his face gently and this your thumb over the corner of his mustache. He watches your lips intently and heat rushes to your core.

 _Keep it light, flirty fun_ , you remind yourself. 

**_You fucking idiot._ **

You place your palm on his chest and pull away gently. 

"That's.. yeah," you chuckle awkwardly. "I gotta work right now, but… that sounds nice."

Jay moves to turn off his stereo and follows you back to the kitchen table. 

You spend the next two hours with Jay, drinking his perfect coffee (Sandy was right. Cinnamon really brings out the flavor) and drumming up enough articles and proposals for two weeks worth of work.

He makes grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and leaves you to your own devices for the earlier part of the afternoon. 

You message back and forth with Will; detailing your ghost adventures and run-in with Jay's mom. You leave out the fact that you're completely, utterly, and totally in lov…

_Fuck!_

Gotta refocus.

You throw yourself into your work for the rest of the day, flooding Vanessa's inbox with articles, quizzes, and cross promotional proposals. 

Around four, Jay's comes back down from his home office and walks you through five of his 48-hour film festival entries. 

You watch _Horror Noire_ that evening; both completely engrossed in the documentary's history of the African American experience in horror. Jay adds on a few stories he's heard after the credits roll.

After dinner, you decide on taking the weekend to make your home 48-hour film festival movie, but doing a run-through on Thursday just to see if you'll get the hang of it. 

Jay plays with your hair as you rest your head on his lap.

"Oh! And the divorce-anullment!" he remembers suddenly. "We gotta get that scheduled tomorrow, too."

"Right! Yeah. Wouldn't want to be married to you any longer than I have to," you joke half-heartedly. 

"Well then you can be sure you have health insurance. Unless you want to get on mine. Our insurance guy said it wouldn't be too much to add you to my policy."

"You checked that for me?" you ask as you peer up to him. 

"Yeah. Just in case. It's good to be prepared," he says dismissively.

"But, you know. The... other thing... We can, uh… after the uh.." Jay smiles bashfully and his ears go pink. 

"You talking about sex?" you deadpan.

"Uh.. I… yeah. Yeah. I was," Jay admits.

"That does sound nice. Really fucking nice," you smile. "I should probably get a list of your kinks, just so I can be sure to buy the right flavor lube. Do you want leather restraints, or are you okay with padded neoprene? Oh, and are more of a ball-gag guy or horse-bit guy?" 

Jay's eyes go wide and he starts to stutter. 

"I… wow… I… um… I'm gonna have to get back to you on some of those…"

"I'm kidding, Jay," you smile. You lean forward and kiss him softly. "I think we should probably stick to the basics for a little while.'

"Yeah. Sure. Absolutely," Jay nods. "But if you want to... you know… try any of those… or all of those… I could. Yeah. That'd be fine. After I change all the locks in my house, of course."

"Just so you know, I'm on birth control, so you won't have to worry about any more little Baumans running around."

"That's good to know. And as of my last checkup, I'm in the clear STD-wise," Jay adds.

"Yep. Same here."

Jay nibbles his lip nervously. You sit up from his lap and turn on the couch to face him. 

"What's the matter?" you ask. 

"I.. don't.. I mean… I just don't… you know… I don't want to build it up too much, I guess. The sex."

You laugh brightly and place your hand atop his on the gray upholstery of the couch.

"Jay, I'd honestly be fine sticking with what we're doing now. You could lose your penis in a bizarre _Surviving Edged Weapons-_ type attack and I wouldn't care. 

"I like you and how you make me feel in and out of bed. Sex would be nice, but even just being around you makes me happy."

Jay looks up at you through his eyelashes and grins handsomely. You grip his hand tighter and speak again:

"Just your presence is enough... Well your presence and then whatever the hell you were doing to me in the tub. That was fucking amazing."

Jay's head falls back and he laughs loudly. He runs his left hand over his beard and raises his eyebrow. 

"I was reading up on that. Wanted to switch it up for you," he blushes. "Glad you liked it."

He glances quickly up at you before moving his hand out from under yours. He runs the tip of his fingers in a tight circle over your knuckles and bites his lip.

"You know... I could probably do that for you again. Maybe see if I can draw it out longer," he thinks aloud.

"Or you could just make me cum like three times in the same amount of time," you reason.

Jay stares up to the ceiling and scratches his chin contemplatively. 

"I don't know…" he mumbles. "What about _four_ times?"

He looks at you.

You look at him.

And then you both run upstairs as fast as your feet will carry you.

...

It winds up being _five_ times, not that you were counting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Sandy! Did you see her coming from a mile away? She's just so darn cute. 
> 
> There's only two days left! Is she going to tell him she loves him? Is he going to shut down completely? Is she going to go to the cabin that weekend? :P Stay tuned!
> 
> Also, here's that [scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzN3qO-qc8U) from _American Psycho._


	35. Thursday, September 23rd 2020 8:01am- Jay's Couch

You woke up early this morning and curled around Jay's sleeping form. He snored softly while you ran your hands up and down his hairy chest. 

Today you're supposed to schedule the end of your marriage. The office could still call any time for a last-minute appointment, but there's something about the finality of an actual, scheduled time for your annulment that makes you feel a strange sense of dread.

Jay's _This Must Be The Place_ alarm went off at the usual time, but he shut it off before the lyrics even began. 

"Good morning," he smiles as he tries to stretch his limbs beneath you. You hadn't realized the full extent of your possessive curl around his body until then, and move to release him from your arms and legs.

The rest of the morning goes well. Jay poaches eggs and you toast English muffins for eggs Benedict. He plays the orange record you bought for his birthday on the stereo near the living room and calls your attention to all his favorite songs.

"Oh! I should actually show you how to run my camera!" Jay shouts. He dashes off to god-knows-where and you gather up all the dishes from breakfast. You hear him setting something up near the couch. 

Jay looks up the appointment number for the state online and calls them as soon as they open. The voicemail box says to leave a number and they'll call back with an appointment time. 

You feel a sudden rush of sadness seeing how ready Jay is to leave that voicemail.

 _But that's stupid. You both want to get it over with. Right?_

"Hey just real quick before you start work, I want to show you this set up," Jay calls.

"Fine fine," you reply as you throw some dish washing powder in the machine.

Jay has his personal camera aimed at the couch in the living room. He waves you over and calls your attention to the viewfinder.

"Okay. I'm going to sit down here and I want you to frame me for dialogue, okay?"

"I gotta log in soon!" You smile.

"I know, I know. But you really gotta get the angle right. It's already recording."

Jay takes his usual seat and your mind floods with the memory of him there, holding your legs to his chest.

"You gotta look through the viewfinder, babe.

…

"I…. Uh…

...

"Shit, I'm sorry," he relays.

"No. It's okay," you tell him as you walk away from the camera. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"No…. Fuck…. Shit!... I shouldn't have… goddamn it," Jay moans and buries his head in his hands. "Just with… yo... you know… just… you being… you being around… here so much…"

You take a seat next to him on the couch and reach for his hand. 

"Hey. It's fine. I get it," you try to assure him. "We're getting divorced, right? It's fine."

He looks up at you with such sadness in his eyes that you have no idea what to do. 

"You can call me babe," you say. "It doesn't mean anything."

Jay's eyes finally look up to yours. 

"I… I... I didn't... mean…. Are… are you sure?" he replies nervously. 

"Yeah. I get it. I almost called you 'honey bunny' yesterday," you laugh. 

"... Do… you… do you mean…. like… like from _Pulp Fiction_?" he asks with an almost imperceptible smirk.

"Exactly! And hey... we're just gonna be a couple little Fonzies, Jay. ' _And what's Fonzie like'?"_ you smile and hope he knows the rest of the scene.

"He's cool," Jay replies.

_"'Correctamundo! And that's what we're gonna be.'"_

You reach up to cup his bearded cheeks and hold his face to yours. 

"Don't worry. I got you," you whisper against his cheek. 

He pulls his face away just enough to look into your eyes. You smile sweetly back at him and brush his hair back behind his ear.

"I was thinking," you start. "Maybe we could hold off on…"

The theme music from Halloween starts up in his pocket. 

"Oh! This could be them," he remarks before accepting the call.

"Hello?... This is he... yes..." he says into the phone. "I… yes. Soonest available would be best. Yeah. Just a drunken mistake, actually."

Your heart sinks lower than you thought possible as Jay explains his predicament to whomever called. 

"Exactly. Yeah... Well we were hoping for something sooner… Okay. Yeah. That's fine. But there's still the chance for the on-call appointments, right?"

You dry your eyes and wait for Jay to return. 

"Sounds good. Okay," Jay speaks into his phone before he hangs up. He walks back into the living room and clears his throat.

You do your damnedest to look happy.

"When's the appointment?" you ask him.

"October 15th, 12:30pm," Jay relays with a sigh. "Unless they call earlier, I suppose."

"Right. Yeah. That's true. Okay," you babble. "So another three weeks at your house."

"Probably way less if they call, though," Jay adds.

"That's… yeah," you answer.

"And then I keep my stuff, you keep your insurance; we're good to go,' Jay explains as he claps his hands together. "Oh, shit! The shot!" 

Jay runs to the camera and checks the finder. "We just let that keep going. Let me rewind and I'll check your framing."

"It's fine. I gotta log in now, anyways. It's after nine, so I'm sure they're expecting me," you tell him.

"Wait, just real quick, come here," he calls.

Your shoulders sink as you walk closer to Jay. He rewinds the footage to just after you sit down next to him.

You see yourself reach to cup his face just as the frame freezes. 

You both stare at the viewfinder, looking at your fairly terrible framing work. The screen is 70% Jay. Your face is cut off at the ear as you hold Jay's face to yours.

But there's no hiding it: 

_That's the face of a woman hopelessly in love._

Your palm delicately holds his face like he's the most precious object in the world. Your fingers run through his beard near his ear while your pinky touches a patch of pink skin on his neck. You look at him with unfiltered, undeniable love.

You don't know if you can come back from this. He's probably going to kick you right out of his life. Your shoulders pull up to your ears. 

"Okay, well that's not a great shot, but that's why we practice," Jay says. "I know you gotta get to your regular work, but we should do another run before the weekend."

"Uh… yeah… oh. Yeah, okay," you reply. 

Thank god he didn't notice… 

...anything, actually. 

_He didn't notice anything._

How could he not see that? 

Should that make you feel better or worse?

You get up from the couch and trot your way back to the kitchen table in a daze. Jay grabs his equipment and heads back up to his office.

You sit at the table for a long time before doing anything. You stare out the back windows at Jay's yard and watch the shadows dance across the hostas by the back fence. 

_You never got to walk on that grass_ , you think to yourself.

You check your email, expecting a reply from Vanessa, but there isn't one. Instead, there's a message from someone you've never seen before. 

[[[Good Morning! I just wanted to reach out personally and let you know we've taken notice of your tremendous work at the Chicago office. If you're interested in a change of scenery, we've got an opening as a senior content developer here in LA. I think you'd bring a lot of talent into the role. Maybe we could set something up next week? Let me know your availability. -Sincerely, Jennifer Faulkner]]]

You should be happy. 

You should be thrilled.

_You're neither._

The next three hours crawl by. Jay stays in his office; but comes back down several times to get coffee and plant a kiss to your forehead.

"The film festival people are really panicking about using WebEx or Skype for the panels," he relays. "I don't know how many ways I can tell them it doesn't fucking matter," he laughs, "but I'll keep trying. Let me know if you need anything."

You feel like your world is spinning out of control and he seems fine. 

Vanessa eventually does send a message. She lets you know that you've completely outdone yourself this week and only asks for a few sentences on your behind-the-scenes look at a successful YouTube channel.

[[[Hey Vanessa, Still getting a feel for everything, but thank you so much for the kind words. I got a really encouraging email from the Los Angeles office. I'll keep you looped in.

I might have an opportunity to stay on board here for another three weeks. Things are looking a bit tenuous, so I'm not quite sure.

I'll deliver the same amount of work every day, but things are certainly interesting here.]]]

You pull out your phone and write a text to Will.

<< I'm in love with my husband.

_ >> Damn. I'm sorry sweetie. _

<< I don't think I can keep it light, flirty fun.

_ >> You gonna tell him? _

<< I think so. 

<< He's probably going to shut down completely. Might have to Uber back to Chicago.

_ >> Don't be crazy! I'll come get you if you need me to. _

_ >> And we can stop by the closest cheesecake store and eat everything _

<< Maybe he'll be okay with it?

Is that _really_ the best you can hope for? That Jay would be "okay" with you being in love with him?

_ >> I think you deserve more than that, honey _

<< You're right, I do. 

You dig up eight finished pieces from the bank of articles Jay helped you create yesterday and send them all at once to Vanessa. 

Probably could have spaced that out better, but Vanessa won't care.

Okay. How the hell is this going to work? Do you apologize? Do you pack now or later?

You walk up the stairs to Jay's office and the door is already ajar.

Jay says nothing to your three little tap-tap-taps. You peek inside the room to see him at his desk, staring at his monitor. 

“Hey,” you call to him from the doorway.

The image on the screen looks strangely familiar, but Jay minimizes it immediately. 

"Hey! Yeah! Hey. I was… just… uh.. yeah. Hi. You okay? You need something?"

His eyes dart around the room nervously.

You remember to came up here with an agenda, but Jay's adorable fidgeting is pretty distracting

"If you were watching porn, I really don't mind," you assure him.

"Uh… no. I haven't exactly needed porn for the last couple of weeks," he chuckles.

"Why are you embarrassed about, then?" you ask before crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway.

"It's so dumb," he moans.

"If it's embarrassing, I'll drop it. I wanted to talk to you about something else anyw..."

"No. It's not… it's… well… it's cause we got the appointment scheduled. I wanted… cause we'll get to… ughh," Jay groans.

He turns in his chair and pulls up the image. 

It's Indiana Jones. Or at least, his costume.

"When you said that you were saving yourself for Indiana Jones, I know you were joking. But I thought that you might… uh… I don't know… maybe like me to wear something like this the first time."

You blink at him and forget how to breathe.

"It was a dumb idea. I mean, I thought it would be funny, but maybe if you like it, I thought I... I'm an idiot, sorry."

"You were going to dress up for me?" you ask shakily. 

"Well… you know… if that's something you'd like, then yeah, of course I would." His timid smile is absolutely perfect. 

"I… no. I mean, of course I'd like you in a fedora and whip. But I like you so much just as you are," you tell him as you make your way to his chair. You lean down to kiss him softly. 

"I know," Jay grins as you pull away. "It was mostly just to make you smile. You have a really nice smile."

Suddenly, Jay is in his twenties again. You're both sitting in the hotel bar and he's hiding his goofy grin against his _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ t-shirt. You've got a empty shot glass full of stolen cherry stems in front of you and a plate of fresh-from-the oven Hawaiian pizza. 

Jay's handsome beard is gone. His skillfully-styled hair is now short and disheveled. He can barely hold eye contact for more than a second and yet somehow he's the most handsome man you've ever seen.

"What did you want to talk about?" Jay asks. 

You take a moment to come back to reality.

Jay opens his knees and you stand between them as he leans forward in his chair. His arms wrap around your legs and he nuzzles into you. 

If staying with him means you have to avoid a certain "L-word," maybe you can do it. 

You can at least try. 

"I… I just wanted to tell you we're running low on dish soap," you tell him as you run your fingers through his soft hair. 

"Oh!" Jay chirps. "I'll add that to the list. We should probably go grocery shopping soon anyways."

"Yeah. Exactly," you smile down at him. "I'd like to try some more of your cooking."

"I'm an okay cook, but I'm pretty damn good on a grill," Jay relays with no small amount of pride. "Oh! You haven't even been in the backyard yet! We should do that tonight!"

“Sure, Jay. That sounds really nice.”

You kiss him on the forehead and remind him that it’ll be lunchtime soon. 

When you get back to the kitchen table, you send a new text to Will:

<< I can’t tell him. 

<< I’m a coward. 

His reply is immediate:

_ >> No, honey. _

_ >> You’re just in love. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid you've got it bad, reader. Not that I blame you.


	36. Thursday, September 23rd 2020 8:01pm- Jay's Kitchen

You throw yourself into your writing after lunch, adding another eighteen articles to your repository of work. 

Jay went to the grocery store and picked up all of the ingredients for dinner. He spent a full two hours marinating and chopping mountains of food; there must have been enough for six people. 

You finish off a couple of growlers from Cafe Centraal. You’re not drunk by any measure, but the alcohol did wonders keeping you warm out on Jay’s back deck. 

You help him clear the table and throw the dishes in the washer. You insist on scrubbing off the larger grilling pans by hand and leave them to dry next to the sink. Jay plays a Phantogram record and you tease him for owning an album less than thirty years old. 

By the time you’re done with all the dishes, the fronts of both of your shirts are soaking wet with soapy water. 

“We should probably get out of these shirts,” Jay comments absentmindedly as he tries to air-out his skeleton t-shirt. 

“Did you set up this whole meal with the intention of being able to use that line on me?” you chuckle. 

“What?” Jay looks up and to the left to try and replay his own words in his head. “Oh! No no! I’m not… that wasn’t me coming on to you! I’m just super wet right now.” 

Your eyebrows shoot up high and you bite down on both lips to try to keep back your giggling. 

“Damn it, that wasn’t a line, either!” he laughs as his cheeks turn pink.

“Sure it wasn’t,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your cold, wet tummies press together as you rest your forehead against his. Jay’s nose presses into your cheek before his lips find yours. 

You wish you could stay like this all night; swaying gently to Phantogram’s _Don’t Move_ and feeling Jay’s hands caress the small of your back. But the weather in Wisconsin is getting cooler. Not so cold that Jay needs to turn the heater on, but cold enough to make a soaked t-shirt feel remarkably unpleasant.

“Okay,” you mumble as you pull away. “Lets get changed quick, and then do you want to watch _Evil Dead 2_ tonight?”

“With director’s commentary?” Jay asks hopefully. 

You smile wide and lean in for another kiss. 

“Of course.”

Jay starts the dishwasher and you both head upstairs to his room.

You stand between him and the door; peeling off your cold top with both hands as Jay rifles through his drawers. 

“Do you need pants, too?” Jay asks as he pulls out a couple of fresh shirts. 

“Uh… maybe,” you reply. Your lounge pants are a bit damp and it would be nice to get warm again.. “It’s my bra I’m worried about. It’s soaked and I’m pretty sure you don’t have a spare one around for me to borrow.”

You use just the tips of your fingers to unhook your freezing bra and toss it over the arm of Jay’s chair. You do a strange half-naked dance, holding your arms against your stomach and rubbing your legs together for warmth as you await Jay’s new shirt and lounge pants. 

Jay turns to you, ready to toss your fresh clothing to you when he stops in his tracks. 

“Wow,” Jay breathes. 

“What?” you ask as you shift your weight back and forth on the balls of your feet. “I’m cold, Jay.”

“Oh!” he yips. “Right. Yeah. Uh…” Jay places his handful of clothing on top of the dresser and pads them lightly. 

“How about you come over here and get them?” he smirks. 

You prance your way over quickly on your tiptoes and curse Jay. Your teeth clatter together when you finally reach him. 

“You’re m.. m… mean!” you reprimand him with a jittery voice. “Is fuckin’ fr...r..reezing up here.”

“Why don’t we get under the covers?” Jay offers with a sly smile. “I’m pretty sure I can keep you warm.”

You need no further invitation, of course, and dive into bed. Jay laughs brightly as you roll yourself into a blanket cocoon. When you’ve finally settled, only your eyes are visible under his thick comforter. 

“If you’re going to warm me properly, you have to be next to naked,” you point out. “That’s not just me being horny. That’s science.”

“You’re totally right,” Jay says as he takes off his wet shirt. He steps out of his pants and boxers and begins to crawl into bed. “I had to watch _The Voyage of the Mimi_ in middle school, so I got to see three naked men share a sleeping bag to save an old sea captain from hypothermia. Ben Affleck was there for some reason.”

“I’m almost positive you’re thinking of _The Lighthouse_ fanfiction, but whatever helps you, sure,” you laugh and throw the comforter over his back.

He settles in quickly on his side and wraps an arm and leg around you. You rest your head just above his right arm. Your body stops shuddering as soon as you breathe in the enticing smell of his chest hair. You nuzzle in deep; enjoying the scratchy feel against your nose. 

Jay laughs bashfully and begins to run his left hand up your back and into your hair. 

“I love how damn fuzzy you are,” you mumble into his chest. Your bottom lip just grazes his nipple and your memory comes flooding back. 

You pull away and look up to Jay with wide eyes. 

“Can we do the nipple thing now?” you ask cheerfully. 

His lovely green eyes find yours and he smiles wide. The muscles in his stomach flex as he laughs loudly. He brings his hand to his chin and contemplates your request. 

“Hmmm…” he starts.

“It’s not pegging, Jay. I just want to nibble you a little bit.” 

“You can do anything you want to me, honestly,” Jay confides. Your eyebrow shoots up so high it nearly leaves your face and Jay rolls his eyes. 

“Not the pegging part!" he giggles. "Well maybe - we’ll see,” Jay smiles.

You press your hand to his shoulder and he lays down flat on his back. Your head tilts back and forth as you try to determine how best to approach the rosey buds on Jay’s chest. 

“Can I get on top of you?” you inquire sweetly. “I think I might have to nibble every inch of you.” 

“Sure,” Jay agrees. 

The cold of the room is nearly forgotten as you move to kneel on the bed. The gray comforter falls away as you straddle Jay’s naked hips. His cock is already half hard as your center meets his. 

You sigh deeply and relish the sensation for just a moment before rolling your hips down further. You place one hand on Jay’s chest and lean down to plant a kiss on his furry pec. When you flick your tongue over his left nipple, Jay’s eyes shut tight. You swirl your tongue over his areola slowly and watch him bite into his bottom lip. 

“Do you like this, Jay?”

“I do. More than I thought I would,” he breathes. 

You suck his nipple into your mouth and massage the tightening bud with your lips. Jay’s pelvis begins to roll up into you and his cock swells between your legs. You do your best to keep your hips still, but the friction of him over your damp panties is making your brain short-circuit. 

You move to his opposite side; holding yourself up with your left hand to the mattress while your right begins to gently pinch and pull at Jay’s wet nipple. You run your teeth over the muscle of his pec before laving your tongue across his pebbling flesh. 

He moans appreciatively under you and you can’t help but grind your hips against him. Your panties are so soaked right now, you can’t even feel them. You sit up straight and roll again; closing your eyes and imagining the cloth is gone completely. 

Jay’s hands find their way to your thighs and he runs them up toward your center. You feel him pull the fabric of your panties aside and your eyes shoot back down to him. 

“I don’t think I can… god, Jay. I think I’m a little too turned on right now,” you pant. 

Jay smiles handsomely in the pale moonlight. 

“What do you want to do?” he asks in a low voice. 

You reach down and scratch your fingernails softly over his shoulders, down his chest, and through the thick hair on his stomach before rolling your hips one more time. 

“I want to have sex with you right now,” you confess. “Well honestly, I kind of always want that. But I know that’s not what you want, and that’s really fine. I just need to re…”

“Like I said,” Jay relays as his finger slides between your folds. “You can do _anything_ you want to me.” 

Your heart stops in your chest as you start to understand the implication. 

“Are... you sure?” 

“Of course I am,” he smirks. 

“But what do _you_ want?” you implore him.

His smile is calm and reassuring as he reaches for you. You learn forward and he cups your face with both hands. He places a tender kiss to your lips and peers up at you serenely. 

“I want you.”

He gently rolls you both onto your sides and holds your face softly with his left hand. He whispers against your lips: “Let me show you.”

Jay pulls himself up and moves to your hips. He runs his fingers over the sides of your panties and waits for your permission. You nod slowly and raise your ass off of the mattress so Jay can slide your underwear off easily. He throws them onto the floor and crawls up your naked form on the opposite side. Jay perches himself up on his elbow and the ends of his golden mustache sparkle when he smiles down serenely at you. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long...” he declares. His hand roams across your chest, palming at your breast softly before rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You whimper at the touch just as he takes his hand away and moves to your mound. 

“To feel you…” he adds.

He parts your folds slowly and moans as he eases his fingers inside of you. Jay teases your entrance as his rough thumb runs over your clit. His hard cock presses into your thigh. 

“To taste you…” 

Jay pulls his fingers from your pussy and wraps his mouth around them. He closes his eyes and moans as he savors the taste. 

“To please you...” 

He reaches back down and circles your clit. He places open-mouthed kisses across your breast until his lips wrap around your nipple. Jay suckles at your breast as his wet fingers rub either side of your swelling bundle of nerves. 

“To know every curve of you.”

Jay pulls his mouth away, holding your nipple between his teeth. He watches your breast bounce when he lets it go. He captures your panting mouth with his own and your tongues roll against each other. You taste yourself on his lips as he deepens the kiss. The movement of his hot tongue plunging your mouth is mirrored perfectly against your clit. 

“I’m probably not going to last very long,” Jay admits with a small smile. “Seeings as I’ve kind of dreamt of this for ten years and all. Do you want me to make you cum beforehand?” he offers. His fingers ease inside of your cunt again as his palm runs over your clit. 

“Fuck,” you growl. “Yes-Anything you want.” 

Your hips rock against his hand and you run your fingers through his long hair. Jay leans down closer to bite and suck your neck just above your pulse point. You feel your wet pussy dripping down to his mattress when he sinks inside of you again. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” Jay whispers against your ear. His fingers squelch as he curls them up toward your belly button. “I can’t wait for you to cum for me.”

“Fuck!” you moan up to the ceiling. Your hips begin to whip against Jay’s hand. “Just my clit, please… please… just my cli…”

Jay immediately moves to your sensitive bud and starts moving across it in tight, quick circles. He keeps up an unfailing rhythm as he leans down and begins to suckle at your breast. Your fingernails dig into his scalp as he bites down on your nipple; pulling it away with his sharp teeth and then watching it bounce back to your chest. 

“Holy shit… Please don’t stop,” you beg. 

Jay groans against your chest and bites down harder. His pace against your clit speeds up just slightly. Every single muscle in your body tenses to steel and your back arches sharply off the bed. Your hand tangles in Jay’s hair. 

“Don’t stop… don’t stop…. don……” your breathing falters and your eyes roll back in your head.

“FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!” you shriek as the tension breaks. Jay rolls all of his fingers over your sopping wet cunt and growls against your breast. Your legs snap shut around him as your body shakes. 

The orgasm tears through your body and you reach for Jay with both hands. Your right hand claws into his scalp as your left digs sharply into his back. His hips rut against your thigh as he pants over your flushed skin. 

“Oh my god! Fuck…. _fuck…_ ” you babble. You pull Jay’s face away from your breast and look into his pitch-black eyes. “I need you. Right now. Please."

Jay nods once before he presses his lips to yours. He moves to kneel between your legs and strokes his hard dick as he looks you over. Your hips beckon him forward and he bites hard into his lower lip. 

He drops down, crawling up your body with his hands, kissing every inch of thighs, then your pelvis, your stomach, breasts, and neck as he makes his way back into your arms.

His hand reaches down to line himself up to your entrance. Your hips roll up to him and you feel the head of his cock slide across your clit.

"My Cherry Girl," Jay whispers against your lips.

His thick cock pushes into you and the raw, intimate stretch is exquisite. He draws out the moment as long as possible, sinking slowly into you as your hands reach around his back. 

Jay bottoms out inside of you and your legs desperately wrap around his hips. His mouth hangs open; panting hot, shallow breaths over your neck.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jay growls. 

"So do you," you moan in reply. Your hips roll against him and his whole body shudders.

"Christ!" he moans as he holds himself up on his hands. "How are you so fucking perfect?" 

You reach up and hold Jay's bearded face in your left hand. You breathe each other's air as he pulls his hard cock from you. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel the head of his dick at your entrance. Jay sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before thrusting himself deep inside of you again.

"Oh fuck!" you cry into his mouth. "That feels amazing. God, please don't stop."

Jay's hips roll into you; curses spew out of your mouth each time his cock plunges inside.

"Christ, you feel too good," Jay grunts through clenched teeth. 

He leans into his left elbow so his right hand can roam over your body. He starts at your neck; pulling your face towards his own as your tongues roll over one another. 

He flattens his hand over your chest before cupping your breast softly. Jay pants into your mouth as he massages your warm flesh with his palm. 

Jay's fingers open wide and he moves to down to your ribs. Each digit presses into your skin as he drags his hand to your hip. 

He pulls your pelvis up and thrusts into you with a low moan. Jay directs the movement of your hips with his hand and buries himself deeper each time.

Jay pulls away to watch your face when he bottoms out inside of you.

You hold his gaze; your body shaking each time he slams into your pussy. He focuses on your mouth, licking his lips at every little moan and gasp his thick cock elicits from you.

He reaches down further to grab a harsh handful of your ass and buries himself so deeply your thighs quiver.

Jay's face contorts in ecstasy before his head falls forward. His long hair falls into his eyes as he whispers your name like a prayer.

You reach up to his hairline and brush it back with both hands. He looks at you with pure devotion. His eyes search yours before he grins wide.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he breathes.

You pull his face down for a kiss, and he begins to move inside you again. His tongue and cock plunge into you in perfect unison. You tug on his hair to break the kiss. 

"Do you want to cum in me?"

"Fuck yes," Jay roars. "But I have to… god damn…"

Jay pulls out and sits up on his heels before grabbing you by your thighs. He opens your legs fully as he pulls you up into his lap. Jay's eyes go wide while he watches his cock slide into your dripping wet pussy.

He pumps into you again, pulling your body toward him with both hands around your thighs. You throw your head back and keen into the pillows. 

"I want to make you cum again," Jay growls. 

He holds onto your thigh with his left hand before moving his right over your swollen bundle of nerves. Jay's fingers begin to flutter quickly over your clit and you scream loud enough to rattle the windows.

His hard dick plunges into you over and over again. The wet, slapping sound of his balls against your ass echos through the room. Jay keeps his eyes straight down, hypnotized by the sight of your pussy taking every inch of his thick cock.

"Can you cum for me?" Jay implores. 

"Yes. Please don't stop. Your cock feels so fucking good! Fuck!" 

Sweat glistens at his temples as he thrusts inside of you. The rapid movement of his fingers across your clit and the delicious stretch of Jay's cock drives you quickly to your peak.

"That's so fucking perfect. Don't stop!" you wail.

Your toes curl into knots as your back arches off of the mattress. Jay's rhythm begins to fail and you know he's close, too. The sounds of his feral moans and the thought of his hot cum filling you to the brim sends you over the edge.

"FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!"

Your cunt contracts around Jay's cock as each wave of your bliss washes over you.

"Fuck, Jay. Please fucking cum in me," you plead. 

He hisses through his teeth while he watches himself fuck you through your orgasm. 

"Fuck, I'm going to cum, babe. You feel so fucking perfect. I'm going to…" Jay's words morph into a savage growl as he buries himself inside your pussy. 

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck!" he roars as his seed erupts deep inside of you. He pulls out by a fraction to ram himself harder into your quivering cunt. 

You feel his body shake between your legs before he collapses forward. Jay holds himself off his elbow as he rolls his hips into you.

"You're so fucking incredible," Jay moans. Your pussy still pulsates around him, making his body jolt with every fading ripple of your orgasm.

He pushes himself up high enough to see you properly and pulls his dripping cock away.

"Fuck, that felt fucking amazing," he breathes.

Jay falls to your right side and moans loudly. He brushes his long hair back over his sweaty brow and tries to catch his breath.

"Was… was that, uh.. okay?" he asks intently. 

You laugh so loudly he jumps. 

"Ha!! What kind of ques… of course it was okay! For fucks' sake, that was fucking mind-blowing!" you chuckle. "Christ, Jay!"

You roll into your side to face him and he presses his lips to yours in a breathless kiss. 

"Thank you," he says sincerely. 

"For what?" you giggle back.

His eyes sparkle beautifully in the bright moonlight.

He pants several times before wetting his lips and giving you a devastating smile.

"For making my birthday wish come true."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin' finally! :P
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait, kids. 
> 
> How did you like the last few chapters? There's only Friday, September 25th left! Thanks for coming along with me on this crazy adventure!


	37. Friday, September 23rd 2020 6:24am- Jay's Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early morning smut. Then things get complicated.

Your eyes open slowly in the early morning. The peachy-golden sunrise barely filters through Jay's open curtains and casts a pale light across the room. 

You're both still completely naked, with Jay curled up behind you and breathing into your hair. 

His stiff erection prods your ass. You know it's completely involuntary; just morning wood. But now that you've had a taste of sex with Jay, you're in the mood for more. 

You move away just enough to roll over and face him. His long hair falls into his eyes as he snores quietly. You can see the very bottom of his adorable front teeth poking over his bottom lip. 

You tuck several strands of hair back behind his ear and watch him smile in his sleep. 

_Or is he awake?_

One of his shining green eyes flutters open and he looks up at you. You smile wide and place a kiss on his forehead.

"Good morning, Cherry Girl," Jay muffles into his pillow. He rolls his head to face you fully and takes several more blinks as his eyes try to focus.

 _God, he’s adorable in the morning._ All squinty and slow. 

You sit up on your elbow to see him better.

"Good morning to you… uh…" you grin down at him and giggle softly. "I wish I had a cute nickname like that for you."

"You've always been Cherry Girl to me," Jay says as he stretches his limbs like a cat. He sets his right hand on your hip and begins to run his palm up and down your thigh. 

_It's damn distracting._

"Well you were wearing that _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ shirt when we met, I suppose I could call you Leather Face."

Jay laughs brightly and rolls onto his back. 

"That's not as cute, you're right."

He places his hand behind his head and gives you a breathtakingly handsome smile. You set your left palm on his stomach and comb through his chest hair.

"How about… Hawaiian Pizza Guy?"

"You are honestly terrible at this," Jay laughs.

"Damn it!" you chuckle brightly.

"I think I found the one thing you're bad at," he smiles. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes make your heart soar. 

You lean down and press your lips to his. Jay's golden mustache tickles your nose and you smile against his mouth.

"You know, I'm wide awake," you start as your hand roams further down his chest. "And it looks like you're already... _up."_ Your hand wraps around his cock.

Jay's eyebrow perks up immediately. 

"I am, yeah."

"Could I interest you in some morning sex?" you offer. 

You can literally feel Jay's cock twitch in your hand. You flash him an impressed look and Jay hides his smile with both palms. 

"Well I guess that pretty much answers that question," he chuckles.

"I've, uh… I've actually wanted to do something for a while, if that's okay," you inform him.

"Anything you want,' Jay replies happily.

You lean down again and kiss him softly before sitting up on your heels. Jay's eyes go wide as you throw a leg over his waist and straddle him below his hips

"Holy… wow.. yeah. That's… sure. That's good," he stutters.

"Just slow morning sex if that's okay,” you propose as you settle down low on his lap. “I'm still pretty damn sore from last night."

"Fuck yeah," Jay breathes.

You reach down to his cock at the apex of your thighs and hold him gently. Jay bites his lip as you run your fingers feather-light up and down his shaft. You twirl your fingertip around the head of his dick and feel his hips begin roll between your legs.

Jay closes his eyes as you run your thumb along the underside of his cock from base to tip. You mirror the movement with your index finger in the opposite side; up from the thick patch of curly hair to his slit.

A tiny, glimmering bead of precum gathers at his tip. You draw your finger across him and he watches you lick his salty seed away like a spoonful of cake batter.

"Fuckin' Christ," he groans. "You're killing me."

"So you're ready?" you smirk.

Jay's eyes narrow at you and he makes a snarky face.

"Just checking," you tease. 

You sit up on your knees and move up to his pelvis. Jay's hands reach down to hold your thighs just below your hips.

You hold Jay's hard manhood and angle him toward your center. When you feel his head at your wet entrance, you let go and lower yourself down on his cock achingly slow.

"Mmmm…" you moan as you bite hard into your bottom lip. "Let’s do this every morning."

Jay throws his head back and pants hard.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck. How do you fucking do this to me? You and that perfect fucking pussy."

Smile wickedly at him. "Damn, Jay!" you beam back at him. "This is turning out to be a lovely morning." 

You lean down and nibble his earlobe. "I like that dirty mouth of yours. Maybe I should put it to work later."

You bottom out against his pelvis and he rolls his hips into you.

"Any fucking time," he moans. 

You splay your hands wide over his ribs and feel his chest hair move against your fingers as you grind deliberately into him. 

You arch your back and Jay marvels at the sight of your breasts above him. He grabs a hold of your hips and watches your pelvis undulate hypnotically.

"Goddamn, you are so fucking beautiful," Jay says reverently.

You run your tongue over your teeth and smile back.

You lean forward to lick across his bottom lip and draw yourself up until you feel the head of his cock tease your entrance. His body quivers as you sink slowly back down.

Jay cranes his head to watch you impale yourself over and over again on his dick. The sight proves to be a little too arousing and he throws his head back with a growl.

"Fuck, it's… I don't know how much of this I can take."

"That's okay," you smile warmly. You reach down to your clit and start your perfect little circles. Jay's eyes narrow on your breast as you begin to pinch and tug on your nipple just how he likes to do it.

"Just a little longer for me," you moan as your hips grind against him. Jay tries to hold back while you use his body exactly how you want. 

He bites his lip as you speed up. He watches with hungry eyes as your breasts bounce gently above him.

Your hand and Jay's stiff dick bring you to the edge in what seems like a minute. 

Or an hour. 

_Hard to tell._

Your toes curl and your hand grips roughly at your breast. Your hips pause as every muscle pulls tight. Your fingers flit quickly against your tender bundle of nerves. 

"Fuck… mmm.. goddamn, I'm going to… oh, FUUUCK," you wail. 

You fall forward, slapping your hand against Jay's chest as you orgasm takes over. Your hips whip against Jay's pelvis and your fluttering cunt milks his cock. 

Jay bares his teeth and grabs a hold of your ass with both hands. He slams himself up into your wet center and pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

The sounds of his slippery cock fucking you through your climax last only a moment before Jay's back arches off of the mattress. 

There are no curse words; no blasphemy. Instead a growl sounding more animal than human roars out of him as Jay erupts inside of you. 

His fingers dig into the thickest part of your ass and Jay holds you still while he empties his cock. 

His head shakes back and forth on the pillow as he mumbles incoherently. 

"...goddam.. ..ucking perf… o sexy... jus… ! ...fuck.. god… damn... shit..."

You try to catch your breath and smile down at him. 

"Is that what you call lazy morning sex?!" Jay laughs. "FUCK! Your gonna fucking kill me!"

"Would that be a bad way to go?" you pant. You roll off of Jay and land on your back next to him.

"Holy shit…" he groans. "No… god, no. That'd be a fucking awesome way to die."

You both laugh as best as you can before Jay turns his head to see you clearly.

"God, you're beautiful," he smiles.

"You said that already," you grin.

"Yeah," he chuckles. "And I'm not gonna stop saying it."

You blush brightly and Jay kisses you right on your pink cheek.

"Why don't you get some more sleep?" he suggests. "I'm going to need a shower."

"That sounds fine by me," you reply serenely as your eyes blink shut.

And you're out like a light before Jay even gets out of bed. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You wake up sometime later. No Jay, no _This Must Be The Place._

He's not back yet. You check the time on your phone and decide it's close enough for you to start your work for today.

_You can do this. You can do this!_

You just have to avoid telling him the full extent of your feelings and you get to be this happy (and this delightfully sore) all the time. 

Thankfully, you have three solid days of articles and quizzes at the ready in case Jay is feeling amorous again this afternoon. 

You grab Jay's pillow and hold it tight against your chest. The perfect smell of his hair fills your nostrils as you rub your face against the cloth. 

You'd stay in his bed for hours, but you do need to work. Also, you're quite sticky.

The thought of Jay's seed dripping out of you makes you smile wide against his pillow. Maybe you can sneak in a quickie before you have to log in at Buzzfeed.

You bite your lip in anticipation. 

_Where is he?_

He's probably down stairs making breakfast.

You hope it's waffles. 

_Oh! You should do it on the kitchen island!_

You get out of bed and throw your clothes on; a pair of Jay’s blue and gray flannel pants and his Orfordville, Wisconsin t-shirt. 

Walking across the second floor landing to the stairs, you see Jay’s office door open. The faint sound of a mouse clicking let's you know he's inside.

It’s not that you would mind him in the Indiana Jones costume, but if you had to choose an outfit for him, you’re leaning towards Jay as Snake Plisskin from _Escape from New York._

Sleeveless shirt? The eyepatch? That _fucking hair?_ And those leather pants? Goddamn, that’s something you’d really enjoy tearing off of him. 

_Or maybe Captain America! Oh, the spandex and all those belts and buckles!_

You crack the door open wide and lean against the door frame. 

Jay’s shoulders are hunched over and his head is resting on two clenched hands. 

“Are you oka…” Your words fade to nothing when you see his screen. 

It’s the video from yesterday. 

Jay’s staring at his monitor, watching you as you hold his face and smile assuringly at him. 

_“...Don't worry. I got you..."_

“Wh… why are you watching that?” you ask nervously. 

Jay simply shakes his head and keeps watching. A second later, his phone rings on screen and he walks out of the shot. 

Your smile on the monitor disappears the moment he leaves.

You can hear Jay’s voice talking to the annulment scheduler in the background. 

_“...eah. Just a drunken mistake..."_

Your face on Jay’s monitor contorts miserably and two fat tears drip down your cheeks. 

“I… I was having a really stressful day,” you try to explain. 

"I thought you understood what we were," Jay says in a low voice. "What we _have_ to be."

"I do understand! I was just having a really bad day. I would have cried over anything."

"You cried when I called our marriage a mistake," he turns around and his eyes are hard. "It _was_ a mistake. Do you not want to get divorced now?"

"No, I do!" you reply loudly. You walk further into the room and he holds his hands up to stop you.

"Do you think you're in love with me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Seems like a yes or no kind to me," Jay retorts.

You cross your arms over your chest and chew the inside of your cheek. You take a deep breath and see if you can get this back on track.

"What are you hoping to get out of that question? If I tell you how I feel about you, you're just going to shut down and stop talking to me. If we just go back to not talking about it, we get to keep going."

Jay's eyes shut tightly and he shakes his head. 

"Fuck. You _did_ fucking tell me! I thought I was dreaming. But you said it to me in bed, didn't you?"

Your eyes go wide before the words start to sputter out of your mouth: "I'm sorry okay! We've been together so much and you called me 'babe' in front of your friends and it just snowballed from there. I couldn't help it!"

"It was a mistake," he shouts.

You stare at him and feel your eyes brimming with tears. 

"Which part?" you ask with a shaky voice.

Jay doesn't even look at you. He just glances back to your loving face on his monitor and shakes his head.

"Which part of being with me was a mistake, Jay?"

Jay rubs both hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. 

"This is not going to end well," he tells you. "You can't possibly love me."

"Why the fuck can't I?"

"Because we've known each other for less than two weeks!" he snaps.

"You know it's not as simple as that, Jay. Don't get pissed off at me because I have feelings for you!"

Jay sits there in silence as the tears drip down your face. 

“You’ve programmed my fucking number into every phone you’ve had for the last decade; you have to feel _something_ for me!” 

Just then, Jay's phone rings on his desk and he has the fucking nerve to answer it. 

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you laugh bitterly.

He swivels to face away from you and answers the call. 

"Hello… This is he… Yeah. We can make it there in ten minutes. No problem. Thanks."

Jay hangs up and doesn't bother looking at you before standing up at his desk and turning his monitor off. 

"The annulment office has an opening now," his eyes glance up at you and he sees the rivers of tears pouring down your face. 

You don't do him the favor of looking away or hiding what you feel. It's a little late for that anyway. 

You set your jaw and hold your head up high. 

"Great," you tell him coldly. "Let's get this fucking over with."

You turn on your heel and head back into Jay's room. The smell of your lovemaking still lingers in… wait, no...

_You didn't make love. You got fucked._

_You_ **_are_ ** _fucked._

You tear off his flimsy pajama pants and throw them in the corner. It takes less than a minute to shove everything you brought from home back into your duffle bag. You head down to your laptop in the kitchen and send Vanessa the first fifteen articles you find in your folder of reserve work. You’re leaving this house the second the annulment is finalized. 

Jay meets you at the table and says nothing. He grabs his keys from the hook in the hallway and you both head out to the car. 

Your anger fades on the short trip to the courthouse, but you don’t like what it leaves behind. The only sound in the car is your faint crying. You press the first button on Jay's stereo and loud static fills the cabin. It's actually much better than the sound of your whimpering, so you just leave it on. 

Jay sighs and hits one of the pre-programmed stations. Huey Lewis' _Power of Love_ blasts through his speakers and you feel like tearing the goddamn stereo out with your bare hands.

You make it to the courthouse in seven minutes flat. Jay holds the front door open, but you insist on getting it for yourself.

The same man waits in the plexiglass booth near the entrance. This time his face mask features a Packers logo. 

"How can I help you folks today?" he asks as he dog-ears his copy of a Brene Brown book you don't recognize.

"I got a call about a last-minute annulment appointment for Bauman," Jay informs him. The man looks at you and is taken back.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's okay. Lots of people get divorced," he says kindly. He grabs a box of tissues with his gloved hand and holds them out to you.

You take a single tissue and then two more. 

"Thank you, sir," you answer sadly.

"You go ahead over to the clerk's desk at the end of the hall," the man says through his green and yellow mask. "Be sure you have all your paperwork, okay?"

You look to Jay and he holds the thin envelope with your marriage certificate inside. 

"It'll all be over soon," the man assures you.

You walk in silence down the hall and pause before the desk. 

"Can you just… God, Jay! Can you not just say one word about how you feel? You're about to divorce me. I'm going home after this and probably never seeing you again and the last thing you said to me was 'it was a mistake.'”

"It _was_ a mistake," Jay replies. He looks into your puffy eyes for only a moment before diverting his gaze. 

"Wow. Christ, Forty fucking years old and you can't deal with your feelings."

You make it the rest of the way to the clerk's desk and Jay clears his throat. An older woman with bright red hair and huge, square-shaped glasses walks to the plexiglass divider. She's wearing a silky leopard-print blouse and a name tag that says "Margaret."

"Hello, ma'am. We got married by accident last week and we have an on-call appointment for an annulment," Jay explains. He sets his envelope down on the counter and Margaret eyes both him and envelope with suspicion.

"I'm going to need the marriage certificate and both your ID's," she informs you dispassionately. 

"Here's the certificate," Jay says as he slides the paperwork over. Margaret takes the envelope as Jay begins to dig through his wallet.

"What's this?" she asks. 

"Well, that's the only copy I have. Shit, do we need another document?"

“You got married last week? Did it come folded like this?” 

"Yeah, to my house,” Jay replies.

“With all the Covid mess, we’ve got a five _month_ delay on sending out marriage certificates. And when we do send them, marriage certificates come in an insured, flat envelope so people can frame them if they want to," she informs you both with a bored expression. 

She pulls her glasses down and looks back and forth between you and Jay.

Margaret flips the document and holds it against the plexiglass barrier: "This is fake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you have no idea how excited I am to post this! 
> 
> How you like them apples?!?! Please let me know if you saw this coming! Or if you didn't! I'm dying to know what you think!


	38. Friday, September 23rd 2020 9:07am- The Courthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've really had quite enough shit for today.

Both of you stare at her like she's insane. 

_She has to be, right?!_

"The seal isn't embossed. And the state registrar isn’t…" she checks the paperwork…"‘Stan Spadowski.'"

“Stanley Spadowski!" Jay slams his first on the counter. "That’s fucking Michael Richards’ character in _UHF.”_

"Well if that's all I can help you with, have a nice day," Margaret declares. She pushes the fake marriage certificate back to Jay and walks back to the office area behind the counter. 

Jay searches the certificate closely before his eyes narrow in on the only other person listed on the sheet.

Michael Stoklasa. 

He crumples the paper in his hand and searches for his phone in his pockets. 

At this point, it's hard to say what you're feeling: Anger, heartache, rage, sadness, confusion, dread and relief all jockey for position at the front of your mind.

Jay, on the other hand, has chosen to go with rage. 

"It's really cute, Jay. This whole fucking song and dance. Do you do this for all of your birthdays or was this something special you cooked up just for me?"

"I didn't fucking do this!" he yells at you.

The man behind the plexiglass raises an eyebrow and gets out of his seat. He begins to roll up his sleeves as he eyes Jay. 

You debate whether or not to just let him smack Jay around. It might make you feel better. But probably not. 

You wave off the man's concern, but he still watches Jay with narrow eyes. 

You barely make it outside before Jay is making the call. He puts his phone on speaker and you hear Mike chewing something on the other end of the line.

 _"What's up?"_ Mike answers.

“What the FUCK!?!" Jay growls.

_"Sorry ma’am, you’ve reached Stanley Spadowski. May I help you?”_

“I can’t fucking believe you!” 

_“I take it you already got that appointment, huh?”_ You can hear Mike’s smile in his voice.

"Why would you do this?" you ask him sadly.

 _"Oh shit, she can hear me?"_ Mike replies with an awkward groan.

Jay tears at the hair near his temple.

 _"I'm sorry girly- really,"_ Mike says. _"But you haven't been around to hear him for the last ten years. He was never going to pull the trigger on his own."_

"It's none of your fucking business, Mike!" Jay yells into the phone

_“Again, ma’am, this is Stanley Spadowski. If you are in need of fishing or marriage licenses, please call back during regular work hours on the third Tuesday of every month."_

"Do you have any idea what you put me through?!" you scream. "You know what, **FUCK BOTH OF YOU!** I'm taking the job in LA and you can both go fucking fuck yourselves!"

Jay's eyes whip to yours.

"What?"

"I'm transferring to Los Angeles and getting as far away from here as I can! Take me home now or I'll take the fucking bus. Either way, I wish the very best for you two assholes."

Jay stares at you, stunned.

 _"No no no no! Wait!"_ comes Mike's voice through the phone. _"Shit! Wait! Here… this is why I did it…"_

Mike hangs up and barely a second later comes a text. Jay pulls the phone closer to his face and squints to see the picture message. He stares at it angrily for just a moment before his expression becomes unreadable. He’s not as obviously pissed off anymore, but there’s really no telling what he feels. 

"Oh," Jay says simply. He drops the phone down to his side and looks at the ground.

"What the fuck is that?" you ask him.

Jay, true to form, says nothing at all.

You grab the phone from him, but he puts up no effort to keep it from you. 

You look down at the message. It’s a photo.

It's of you and Jay on his birthday at SafeHouse. The bright flash of the camera makes it seem like you’re both radiating light. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders and you're kissing him happily on his bearded cheek. His hands are spread out wide across your back, touching as much of you as he can. Jay's arms hold you tight and he leans into your kiss.

His smile is gorgeous and confident and his eyes are closed just tight enough to show him completely at peace. 

There's no hiding it:

_That's the face of a man hopelessly in love._

...

Another text comes through:

**_> > I’m sorry, man. But don’t let her go again. _ **

**_> > Just fucking tell her. _ **

You hand the phone back to Jay and he immediately shoves it back into his pocket without so much a peek at the texts. 

He stands in silence, staring out at nothing for ten seconds. It’s enough time for you to regroup; at least somewhat. 

_You’re not crazy._

_You’re not alone in your feelings._

But what does it even matter what he feels about you if he can’t admit it?

“Take me home, Jay.”

He doesn’t nod or acknowledge that you’ve said anything. He just begins walking toward the car. You both pile in and he starts the engine. The radio plays _If You Leave_ from the _Pretty in Pink_ soundtrack. 

The irony seems to be lost on him. 

He holds the steering wheel with both hands and looks straight ahead. 

“I figured you’d be happier right now,” you say to him as he parks outside of his garage. “We’re not together anymore and you didn’t even have to fill out any paperwork.”

Jay shakes his head and sighs. He opens his mouth to say something, but it fails. 

You roll your eyes and get out of the car. You walk wordlessly through Jay’s yard and in through the back door. You grab your bag and laptop from the kitchen table.

“Are you going to take me to Chicago, or should I figure out another way back?”

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. His eyes are aimed squarely at the floor. 

“I don’t really give a shit, Jay. But thanks for the heartfelt apology.”

“How... could you…. you can’t… it doesn’t.... make... any sense,” Jay mumbles. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?"

“You… you can’t be… it’s impossible… no one… how can you... fall in love with... someone in two weeks?”

“I don’t know, Jay. _Why don’t you tell me?”_

Your words are a slap across his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally replies.

“Again, I don’t give a shit. I’m walking out that fucking door and you’re not going to see me again," your voice waivers. "Does that not mean anything to you?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“ANYTHING!” you cry. “Tell me to stay! Tell me you need me! Tell me that you love me! Because **I don’t want to fucking leave**! 

“I want to stay here and be in love with you and listen to your weird music and eat your goddamn waffles every morning. 

“But if you can’t just fucking tell me how you feel about me… fuck, Jay. What’s the point?”

Jay clears his throat and replies in a shaky voice: 

“I… I… don’t… I'm...

“I’m... forty... and on a _good_ day... I have the... emotional maturity of... a fucking middle schooler. 

“I don’t… I don't... know how... to tell you... how I feel… about you because I can’t… 

"I can’t even... make sense of it in my own head,” Jay confides. He runs his fingers angrily across his furrowed brow and struggles on:

“If… if you... were a fucking Argento film…” he tries, “or some vanity project from Peter Iengo... I’d have an easier time making… _fuck,_ making any kind of... sense out of this.” 

You wipe your eyes and watch him continue to speak directly to the kitchen floor. 

“Well you need to figure it out, Jay. And now. You can’t just sit back and observe and pick me apart like a fucking movie!”

Jay finally looks up at you and his red eyes brim with tears. His shoulders sink and his chest falls. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

You again find yourself desperately wanting to hold him and protect him from everyone that would do him harm. But you can’t. 

“I know you don’t deal well with any of this. And I was more than willing to work within your rules, but I **_deserve_ ** someone who can tell me they love me,” you declare. 

Jay bites his lip and nods sadly, but he doesn’t reply. 

You sling your shoulder bag over your head and grab your duffle bag of clothing off of the floor. 

“I'll get my own ride home,” you inform him on the way to the back door.

Jay’s lip quivers as he watches your feet walk past him.

You take hold of the screen door and open it by an inch... 

...

...

“What if I was a movie?” you ask him over your shoulder. “If I were a movie would you know how you felt about me?”

You leave the door open as you turn to face him. “Could you analyze and review me like you do everything else?”

Jay’s eyes dart around the room and his forehead wrinkles as he tries to think. You hold your breath as you await his reply.

...

...

Nothing.

You sigh sadly and turn back to the door before he finally speaks. 

“I didn’t...” Jay’s voice shakes. He coughs once and starts again:

“I didn’t know... what I was missing before I met… _watched..._ this movie. 

“She is… IT is… so fucking smart and hilarious and challenges me at every turn. Every time I think I've got the plot figured out, I'm proven wrong. And somehow I'm happy about it. 

“The… movie... is rich and complex and nuanced - like a Lynch film - so even though I know I'll probably never understand it fully, what I think I've figured out so far makes me wanna rewatch it a thousand times to look for more." 

“Every scene is more amazing than the next. Hats off to the cinematographer because she is always perfect. Always. 

“I know... _the movie…_ is supposed to be a light-hearted comedy, but there is always a deep undercurrent of horror... because watching it makes me feel completely helpless. 

“I am literally, authentically terrified of the thought of never seeing her again.”

He inhales sharply and looks into your eyes. The sunlight from the window to his backyard makes his tears sparkle like diamonds.

“The stupid fantasy version of you I’ve had in my head for a decade is _nothing_ compared to who you really are. 

“You… you’re as beautiful as a Wes Anderson movie, as layered and thought-evoking as a Kubrick film. As effortlessly cool as Tarantino and as fantastical and romantic as Guillermo del Toro. 

“You make me laugh harder than Edgar Wright or John Waters ever have and as _absolutely fucking crazy_ as it sounds, I have been in love with you for _years._ "

You stand completely still as oceans of tears pour down your cheeks. 

“Please don’t go," he begs you. "Not to LA; not even back to Chicago. I don’t want to be without you ever again.”

Jay takes a deep breath. A beam of sunlight crosses his face as he steps closer and it makes the green and gold of his eyes look like gilded jade. 

“Because _I love you.”_

You take wide steps to go to him; dropping your duffle bag along the way and fluidly take his face in your hands. You blink your tears away and press your lips to his. 

A roaring wave rises and crashes in your chest as his arms wrap tightly around your waist. 

It's not a hard kiss, with bites and muted force. Instead it's soft; delicate even. 

His tongue gently parts your lips and he relaxes into your embrace. You whimper quietly and open fully to him. 

He pulls away to take in every detail of your face and etch this moment into his mind. 

You wipe the tears away from his cheeks. 

"Thank you," you sniffle and plant three more soft kisses across his mouth. You try to imbue each kiss with some small measure of the euphoria burning in your chest. You press your cheek to his and feel his soft hair fall over your eyes. "I love you, too."

A grateful sigh comes from him as he rests his head on your shoulder. Your arms wrap around his neck in an imitation of a slow dance. 

You hold him like that, scratching lightly between his shoulder blades with his face buried in your neck.

"Also, thanks for not comparing me to a Cronenberg movie."

He laughs into your ear and you melt. 

It's the same perfect, whole-body laugh that kept his memory burning bright for eleven years…

...only now it sounds like home.

  
  


[-FADE TO BLACK-]

[-ROLL CREDITS-]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, folks! What did you think? Leave me a comment or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thank you so very much for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed my take on novelized romantic comedy. 
> 
> And an extra special thanks to those who have left me comments and kudos. 
> 
> And an ULTRA MEGA SUPER DUPER thanks to DeviantDr.Kate for being the best damn reviewer/beta/editor/all-around-swell gal and to DashiellDeveron for her enthusiasm, notes, and for all of the real-life Red Letter Media locations and restaurants mentioned in this fic! *MWAH*MWAH*MWAH*!
> 
> HAPPY JAY'S 40th BIRTHDAY TO YOU ALL!


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